Don't Call It Love
by theshorterstory
Summary: Quinn and Rachel have always hated each other. That was common knowledge, but Quinn's pregnancy is making her soft and maybe she'll realise that she and Rachel aren't all that different...  And yes this is a Faberry pairing.
1. Chapter 1  Don't Mean Nothin'

_A/N: So I'm back again! For those of you joining for the first time, I have a Bellice fic in progress (which I have _not _given up on, I swear) and am expanding to the Glee universe, and in particular Faberry. I truly don't understand why there isn't some sort of story of their clear love for one another in the show... but we can dream. :P So I decided that I would write it myself. This will follow the actual story from the show in some ways, including certain scenes, and other times it will stray away. So if you don't want spoilers from Season 1, be careful about reading! Also, this starts with 'The Power of Madonna' and goes from there, but does include flashbacks to before. This is mainly going to be focused on Quinn, as I find her character really fascinating, but there are of course going to be plenty of Rachel moments. I'm kinda nervous about this story, as I don't tend to write things which have any sort of humour in it at all, so this is new. I'm really hoping I've managed to capture the characters' personalities properly, and that the things they say/do will at least make you chuckle. I'm sorry if I failed miserably. I also have no idea where I'm going with this, I just _had_ to write _something_ Faberry, and this is what came of it._

_Please read and review, as reviews really do inspire me to keep writing, and I was feedback so I know where I'm going wrong, and what you would like to see._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, only the pieces of plot that I have added in here because Quinn and Rachel are clearly so very gay for one another.  
_

**Chapter 1 – Don't Mean Nothin'**

The Biro scribbled over the lined paper, steadily drawing a caricature of Rachel Berry. Her nose was enlarged, her teeth made to look similar to a horse, and above her head the word "LOSER" was scrawled, drawn over several times as if to reinforce the statement even more so. Quinn absentmindedly continued her drawing as there was nothing else better to do in the rehearsal room it seemed. Santana and Brittany were, as usual inseparable, heads bent together talking. Quinn was sure she'd be allowed to sit with them if she wanted to, but they were both still in their Cheerio uniforms, and she didn't feel comfortable as she was no longer captain and instead had what looked like a melon growing rapidly beneath her dress. She scribbled a little harder on the picture. Tina sat behind Mercedes, gently toying with her hair, both seemingly daydreaming. Rachel was watching what Quinn was drawing, and trying to pretend it didn't bother her. It really did.

Rachel tore her eyes away from the page begrudgingly, and spoke up.

"Can I ask you guys something... private?" Santana instantly whipped her head around to regard Rachel with scrutinising eyes.

"Yes, you should move to Israel," She said, an insolent smile plastered on her lips. Quinn sniggered. Rachel continued to ignore the insults, and instead moved to the front of the class. Quinn stopped drawing and looked up at Rachel inquisitively. She looked Rachel up and down, and grimaced at the outfit she was wearing.

"It's about dating..." Rachel continued. Something inside Quinn jumped at her words, and touched her belly, wondering if it was too early to feel the baby or not. She tried to hide her concern with a well practiced smirk that came from her time as a cheerleader and general high school bitch. She managed to tune out her voice for a while, growing bored, and then suddenly Man-Hands was talking about a 'hypothetical' make-out session that was 'erotic' and there was that feeling again, this time followed by a shortness of breath.

"Would you _please_ stop talking, you're grossing out my baby." Quinn said, the words falling from her lips patronisingly and all too easily. Rachel, again, ignored her. Santana was seemingly trying to give Rachel advice, but her advice wasn't exactly great.

"Just do what I do; _never_ say no."

"Oh, totally! I mean, what's the worst that can happen?" Brittany said thoughtlessly. Quinn flinched and the room when quiet momentarily. "Oh, right. Sorry, Quinn," Brittany said almost apologetically. She shrugged it off. She didn't want to hear about this. RuPaul's 'hypothetical' boyfriend may have been mad at her for saying no to sex, but Quinn wished desperately that she could have been in Rachel's position. Able to say no. She'd much rather have had Puck mad at her, and not be pregnant, but those wine coolers had clouded her judgement that day, and he kept telling her she wasn't fat, and she had been mad at Finn, and well... everybody really, and then her life had turned entirely upside down. She swallowed her anger. Mr Schue intervened, and Quinn's anger continued to flare. She had been feeling fairly anti-men recently. The bell rang, but she still had something to say to Mr Schue.

"The fact is that a woman still earns seventy cents to every dollar that a man does for doing the _same_ job. That attitude starts in high school..." Mr Schue silently regarded her as she brushed past him clutching her books.

Once Quinn was in the hallway, she sighed and saw the familiar shape of Rachel bouncing away from her. Before she could stop herself she was opening her mouth and calling out to her.

"Hey, Berry!" Rachel stopped and turned, looking at Quinn warily. Quinn approached her slowly, finding she really didn't have the energy to run to catch up with the midget anxiously awaiting her. She was already pissed off, and now she was pissed off and confused as she had no idea why she was allowing herself to be seen with Stubbles in the hallway. She was already low enough as it was on the popularity scale.

"Yes, Quinn?" Rachel asked shrilly, trying to pretend she wasn't slightly scared and slightly awed at McKinley's previous queen bee daring to be seen with her.

"Look, I'm not sure why I'm trying to help you. I probably just pity you or something as your life is already embarrassing enough, just... Don't sleep with Jesse unless you're really ready for it, okay? Look where it got me. I've lost..." She trailed off, unwilling to show weakness in front of anyone else, Man-Hands in particular, "Just don't be an idiot. Don't let him pressure you into anything. Don't ever let _anyone_ do that to you, okay, RuPaul?" She found she couldn't bring herself to say Rachel's real name. Rachel looked shocked still.

"Thank you, Quinn. I really appreciate you talking to me like this. It's very kind of you, and I-" Quinn had had enough now. How could so many words be used for something as simple as a 'thank you'?

"Save it. See you later." And Quinn was gone.


	2. Chapter 2  All The King's Horses

_A/N: It feels good to be writing again. Here's Chapter 2 (already!). This is all I've got, buffer wise, but I promise to try to keep inspired with it. These two characters are really fun to write, albeit hard. Also, hooray for violent mood swings! I blame it on her baby hormones. Quick note, all chapter titles are names of songs which I think are either fitting just from their titles, or because the lyrics make sense when it comes to chapter content. Love to all those who get the references. If you think you know who did the songs, leave a review and tell me your thoughts! In fact, review anyway! I like to know if people are enjoying what I'm writing, or if they think it's the worst thing _ever.

_Disclaimer: No I do not own Glee, I only take credit for the parts of the plot I have rewritten for my own sick enjoyment._

**Chapter 2 – All the Kings Horses**

"_I'm so sorry," Rachel stood before Quinn, eyebrows creased together in a frown of guilt and remorse, "I fully understand if you want to beat me up," Quinn looked up at Rachel sullenly, considering if it was worth it or not. The old Quinn would have done, but she was feeling less and less like HBIC as every day went on, "... if you can, just try and avoid my nose." Rachel finished. She took a deep breath, and stood tensely, eyes squeezed shut. Quinn pursed her lips, but made no move to harm Rachel._

"_I'm not mad at you..." She breathed finally. Rachel opened her eyes slowly, disbelieving this was really Quinn Fabray who was saying she wasn't mad at her for possibly the worst thing Rachel had ever done. Rachel used to get tortured for simply existing, and at a time where she really had done something worthy of punishment, Quinn wasn't going to beat her senseless?_

"_All you did was what I wasn't brave enough to do. Tell the truth..."_

"_I-" Rachel started, then stopped again. She had never seen Quinn this way. She was in tears, and seemed to actually be opening up to Rachel somewhat. She had to help her._

"_I was selfish when I told him... I wanted to break you two up so he would want to be with me," Rachel shook her head, knowing how stupid she had been. And feeling deep down that what she was saying wasn't quite true, but she wasn't really sure what her motive was just yet._

"_And now _neither_ of us have him." Quinn said with a wry smile. She shook her head, her blonde hair falling down around her face. She looked so vulnerable, and Rachel wanted desperately to comfort the ex-cheerleader, but she had no idea how, nor did she dare in case Quinn were to push her away and revert to calling her names again._

"_I have hurt _so_ many people," Quinn continued, and she had to stop to breathe shakily, trying in vain to hold her tears back, "Can you go now? I just really wanna be alone." Now the tears were flowing freely, and she really, really wanted Rachel to just _stop_ being nice to her and buzz off and whine to someone else. Rachel sat for a moment, she moved her hand towards Quinn's knee, as if to squeeze it reassuringly, but she faltered and thought against it, instead just standing and walking hesitantly away. Quinn let out a sigh. At least she could be alone with her grief now._

"_Hey," Puck said, as he sat down next to her. Quinn gritted her teeth, despair sinking in. Why was it so hard for people to see she simply wanted to be _alone_ for just a few minutes?_

"_So, I know you're upset now, but I wanna be with you. I'm gonna do everything I can to be a good dad to our baby." Puck looked so sincere that Quinn couldn't help but smile at him in gratitude a little bit. This side of Puck was much nicer than the usual hormone-driven, testosterone-crazy boy._

"_Thanks," Quinn started, unsure of how to go on, "But I honestly can't handle any more stress in my life right now. I'm gonna do this on my own. I know you don't understand it, but please respect it." She couldn't be near him anymore. She couldn't be near anyone, and her last words escaped her as a strangled whisper as she stood and left Puck sitting there on his own._

Glee was over for the afternoon. Everyone had already left, apart from Rachel and Quinn. The last echoes of the McKinley High students were fading away. Rachel was packing her bag by the piano, Quinn sitting on one of the chairs. She looked a million miles away, Rachel noted as she zipped up her backpack. Quinn's posture was stiff, and her eyes were glazed. The brunette cast a worried look her way before heading towards the door. She sighed, and turned. She didn't know why she wanted to help Quinn, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. Quinn fascinated her. Rachel found it easy to see through her. She knew Quinn was nothing like the person she was in school at heart, but no one else could seem to see this. She put her bag down and walked to the sombre blonde.

"Quinn?" She asked softly.

"What do you want, Berry?" Quinn said as maliciously as she could. Her voice was soft and held no real venom, though, and she wished she had the energy to be mean to Rachel.

"I-I was merely wondering if you were okay. You don't look like you are, Quinn. I'm going to offer my friendship once more and-"

"Berry, I'm going to tell once more, I _don't want_ your friendship. I might start growing hair on my chest or something." Quinn was disappointed that was the best insult she could come up with. She sighed and Rachel sat down behind her.

"I thought you sang really well today, Quinn," Rachel ventured quietly. The blonde was glad Rachel couldn't see her face. She was smiling at the compliment. She was used to hearing the shorter girl give very roundabout compliments. Such as: 'you have a good voice, although occasionally sharp'. This was something new. She hated to admit it to herself, but hearing something completely positive from Rachel was good, because whilst Rachel was bossy, and loud, and overbearing and many other unattractive things, she was a fantastic performer. Better than anyone else in the club, and gaining her approval was so rare. Quinn grinned.

"Thanks," She said in reply finally.

"You're welcome," Rachel said hesitantly, "You look very tense. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Listen, Stubbles, I'm fine, really. I just want to... I don't want to go back to Puck's yet." Quinn squeezed her eyes shut, berating herself again. Why did she keep letting her guard down when the small diva was present? This was happening too often.

"I'll stay with you, if you like," Rachel offered. Her voice was hushed, expecting a harsh retaliation from the ex-cheerleader. There was a long pause.

"Alright." Rachel allowed a small smile, and put her hand on Quinn's shoulder. Quinn leapt, and the muscles in her shoulder tensed even more than they already were.

"You really are tense, Quinn. You know, you should take some time to stretch before and after performances. You'll feel much better if you're limbered up. I'm quite shocked, really. You were on the Cheerios, you should know all of this, right?"

"Berry, shut it. I said you could _stay_, not talk my ear off."

"I'm merely trying to help you. I promise you, you _will_ feel better if you stretch more. You're all coiled up like a spring!" Rachel exclaimed, wishing she didn't always feel the need to talk and talk, especially when asked not to. She bit her tongue to stop from saying any more unnecessary words. Her hand was still on Quinn's shoulder, and the blonde was breathing quickly.

"I can help you," Rachel whispered. She didn't know why she wanted to help Quinn so badly. Sometimes she wished her fathers hadn't raised her to be so _nice_ to everyone all the time.

"In what way?" Quinn asked wryly.

"Any way you like... But I can help with those tense muscles for now," Rachel said, leaning forward. Her free hand rested on Quinn's other shoulder. "Just take deep breaths, and I'll help work out those knots. It must be all the stress you're under," Quinn was struggling to breathe at all.

"Get your man hands off of me, Berry, I'm _fine_!"

"Clearly, Quinn, you are not. So stop it. Just give in. You know how persistent I can be. Here," She began rubbing Quinn's shoulders gently, pushing her thumbs into the tight muscles she found.

She suddenly realised she was really nervous. It was an unusual feeling for Rachel Berry, as she was never scared of anything, particularly not talking, or performing, but now she was nervous. She took a deep breath and swallowed, trying to calm herself a little. It had to be because Quinn would never normally talk to her other than to call her a nasty name, or to draw pornographic pictures of her in the bathroom, or shove her into lockers if Rachel happened to be in the same corridor as her, or laugh when slushies were thrown in her face. And not only was Quinn talking to her – well, sort of – but she was letting Rachel _help_ her. Through _massage_. This was definitely something worth being nervous about. And now that Rachel had analysed why she was scared, she wasn't any more, because it made sense, and she just had to go with it and see how it went.

Quinn was also freaking out, much alike Rachel. She couldn't relax when Berry's hands were on her like that. It was disgusting. She might catch the gay from her two dads, and what if someone _saw_ her here with IT? And why was she actually _enjoying_ the almost comforting presence of the irritating drama queen? Surely she should be insulting her, or drawing horrible pictures, or pushing her into something or even giving her a slushie facial? But she didn't _want_ to do any of that, and that was making her nervous. What was also making her nervous was the fact that now she had gotten used to Rachel's small hands tenderly kneading her aching muscles, she was able to relax slightly, and was realising that Rachel was really good at this, and that her neck didn't hurt so much now. She sighed, her body drooping, and she leant back into Rachel a little more.

An almost comfortable silence fell between them. Rachel was the first to break it, not surprisingly.

"I didn't really do it, you know," She said softly. Quinn was confused.

"Didn't do what?"

"Sleep with him. With Jesse I mean." Quinn felt a smug smile settle on her face. _Good_, she thought triumphantly.

"So you mean it _wasn't_ a hypothetical 'erotic' make-out session, or Wiggles concert then?" She asked. It was strange to be teasing Berry in an almost friendly way, she realised. It felt alien to her, and unsettling.

"Clearly not, but you already knew that. And I couldn't do it. Thank you. For what you said, I mean. I might have done it if you hadn't spoken to me, and I really do think I would have regretted it. I don't think he's right for me anyway..."

"Really?" Quinn queried, unable to feign disinterest, "But he's just like a male version of you. I mean, he's arrogant, obnoxious, bossy, high maintenance... Surely you're the perfect match, right?" Quinn asked. She hadn't meant to be offensive, but it was hard to be nice to Stubbles, and plus, she was only telling the truth. Rachel stopped massaging for a moment.

"I don't know quite how to respond to that, Quinn. But no, I think we're _too_ similar, and I don't think that works. I feel like I need someone who can match me intellectually and creatively, but I need someone to keep me grounded, too. I need someone to remind me I'm not a star – at least, not yet – and I need someone to tell me to shut up when I can't stop talking, or being rude about someone's performance when they've clearly put a lot of effort into it and-"

"Shut up, Man-Hands, you're doing what you just said you didn't want to do _right now_."

"Sorry," Rachel apologised.

"And why did the massage go away? I didn't say you could stop. And why did you tell Finn you _did_ sleep with Jesse if you didn't? I thought you were always on about being honest to people, a little like how you were so _honest_ with Finn _before_ when you told him about Puck being the _real father_. You know what, Treasure Trail? I don't know _why_ I'm even still in here with you. I fear that if I continue to breathe the same air as you, my baby might end up a boy after being exposed to the confusion of the two genders that you are." Quinn suddenly found the flashback she had been experiencing before Rachel interrupted was coming back full force, but now she realised she actually was mad, but only because Rachel was being a hypocrite. She also found she was standing now, bearing down on the small brunette in front of her, jabbing her finger maliciously into Rachel's face as she spoke. She may be pregnant, and no longer in her Cheerios uniform, but she'd be damned if she ever lost the talent she had for being intimidating. Rachel was grimacing slightly.

"Don't be such a hypocrite, Berry. You already have enough faults in that terrible personality of yours, and hypocrisy will do nothing to help you there. You rant on about honesty all the time, and then _this_? Screw that, Berry. That's not something to lie about." With her face flushed, and head held high she stalked from the choir room, glaring down an unfortunate freshman who was stupid enough to be in her way.

Meanwhile Rachel was still sitting in the choir room, utterly shocked. Quinn had gone from being her usual stand-offish self, icy and non-responsive, to someone who had seemingly shared in a moment of playful banter, to listening to Rachel's problems, and then back again faster than Rachel could reassure herself she really was going to make in Broadway. She was hurt by Quinn's words, which was stupid, as she should be used to them by now, but maybe it was because for just those few moments of nearly friendly interaction, she had let herself believe she might have found a friend, her _first_ friend, and then had it snatched away from her as suddenly as it was given. She sighed, and squeezed her eyes shut. She was Rachel Berry, for goodness' sake; she didn't need Quinn to help her. She'd always been able to get through everything on her own before. She took a deep breath and followed Quinn's steps through the door. She needed to get home soon or else her dads would worry and also she still had her daily MySpace video to film and post. Friends would only tie her to this place, and give unnecessary doubts when it came to leaving for New York to become the theatrical sensation she was destined to be, right?


	3. Chapter 3 Are Ya Achin'

_A/N: Chapter 3, hooray! I had the first half written a couple of days ago, but have literally only just had the chance to sit down and do it all properly. The chapter title in this case is from 'The Lion King'. I tell you that because it's just so relevant it's not even funny. Look it up if you don't remember and I'm sure it'll all come back to you._

_Also, whoah, Glee's second season starting, huh? I will refrain from saying anything. For now, this story only gives spoilers to the first season, not the new one!_

_And finally, in this chapter there is another pairing. BaQuinn. The best ship _ever_._

Chapter 3 – Are Ya Achin'?

Later that evening Quinn was sitting in the kitchen of Puck's house glaring mutinously at the fridge. She didn't like to hate entire groups of people, but right now she really hated Jews. All she wanted was some bacon. Was that really too much to ask? She huffed and puffed and stormed from the kitchen with the resolve that she didn't need bacon anyway.

No less than two minutes later she was in the same position as before, staring at the fridge again. What kind of a religion purposely made you suffer the lack of beautiful, tasty, nutritious bacon? It was unthinkable! Unfathomable! If anything, bacon should surely have its own religion. Baconism. Quinn would be its most devout follower. Only if it didn't conflict with Christianity, however. Was it possible to be a believer of two religions simultaneously? At that point, Quinn's musings were interrupted by Puck.

"'Sup, MILF?" He asked as he looked her up and down lewdly. Quinn rolled her eyes with practiced precision for the maximum amount of irritation to be shown.

"'Sup, Pig?" She countered, then winced when her mind instantly jumped back to the thought of succulent bacon. Bacon...

_Stupid baby hormones making me crave like a mad woman!_ Quinn cursed mentally.

"I'm going out," She spat at Puck resolutely and glided from the kitchen leaving Puck feeling incredibly confused as to what was so fascinating about the fridge and what he'd done wrong to incur her wrath _this_ time.

Quinn stepped out of the front door of the Puckerman household and realised she actually didn't have a plan for what to do next. She had simply fled the scene for fear of what she might have done had she not stopped thinking about bacon. Although... Puck's mum would never know she had eaten any bacon if she didn't do it in the house.

The idea was planted now, and she began to scheme and plot as she sat on the front porch, her hand absently rubbing her belly.

"It's okay, baby," She cooed to her stomach, "we're going to have bacon really soon..."

She had grown impatient when planning and had decided to go ahead with the first step of her plan and wing it from there.

Ten minutes later Quinn was marching up and down the aisles of the grocery store growing almost hysterical when she could find no bacon. She knew she was being ridiculous, getting so worked up over food, but she just couldn't seem to stop herself, else she might cry or attack someone, or maybe even both.

There it was. One solitary pack of lonely looking bacon, gazing forlornly up at Quinn, begging to be eaten. It lay abandoned between the sausages and ham, and Quinn plucked it from its place and cradled it lovingly in her arms. She closed her eyes in contentment and felt all the panic within her drain away.

"Quinn?" A voice questioned. Quinn froze, gritting her teeth in frustration. She whirled around, fire in her eyes.

"What do you want _now_, Anshel?" She growled. Rachel paled slightly and gulped. It had been a while she had _really_ made Quinn this angry without any provocation.

"I resent your insinuation that I am a transvestite, Quinn. But that is clearly not what I am here for. I was actually just doing a bit of grocery shopping when I saw you – um... caressing the bacon..." Rachel eyed it warily, as though it could attack her at any second. She gave the same look to Quinn, although most of her anger seemed to have died down now. Now, instead, she was back to near hysteria as she realised she had obtained the object of her desire, only to be affronted by the cruel fact that she had nowhere to cook it.

She was silently weighing the pros and cons of eating the bacon raw then and there, but decided against it as it would most likely just make her ill, and make her seem even weirder in front of Berry than she probably already looked, and plus, it probably wouldn't taste anywhere near as good as when it was fried to crispy perfection.

Rachel worriedly noted the drool at the corner of Quinn's mouth and decided that the ex-cheerleader was completely insane. She certainly looked it, with her eyes all mad, and her mouth all slack jawed.

"Um, Quinn, you're scaring me a little. Are you alright?" Rachel asked, wring her hands together and shifting nervously from foot to foot. Quinn snapped out of her bacon haze and fixed Rachel with a look so fierce and determined that Rachel was worried she had actually peed a little.

"Listen, Berry; I need you to help me. This is _very_ important," Rachel could nothing but nod. "If I don't eat this," At this point Quinn wielded the bacon expertly in Rachel's face, "then I absolutely cannot be held responsible for my actions. I _need_ this, and you're going to help me." Quinn was passionately gesticulating as though she were giving a speech at a political rally, or preaching about God, not just a pack of bacon.

"Uh..." Rachel almost didn't dare speak her mind, for once, "With all due respect, Quinn, I am a vegan. I mean, I don't even know how to cook _that_, and besides, you're acting highly irrationally considering the amount of poise and control you usually have over yourself and lastly: Why _should_ I help you? Merely four hours ago, you were shouting at me. Much like you normally do. I don't understand why you can't just go back to Puck's house and coo-" She was cut off mid-rant as the bacon connected with the side of her head.

"_The Puckermans are _Jewish_, Berry!_" Quinn bellowed, causing several head to turn in their direction. They were drawing quite a crowd.

"You just assaulted me!" Rachel cried indignantly, rubbing the side of her head and pouting. "With _bacon_! I feel unclean! What if there was some raw bacon on the outside of the pack? It'll be in my _hair_!" She positively shrieked. The diva stopped herself from going on as for one thing, Quinn appeared to be readying herself for round two as she raised the bacon ceremoniously in the air again, and two, as much as Rachel loved attention, she was getting a lot of very strange look cast her way. She saw one student from McKinley videoing the altercation with his cell phone, but she hoped he was far enough away to not be able to pick up on any of the dialogue. Jew-Fro would have a field day if he got hold of this. It was definitely time to give in, she concluded. There was clearly no arguing with a pregnant girl.

"Fine! Stop! I'll _help_ you! Come on," Rachel angrily grabbed Quinn's wrist and dragged her to the checkout. Quinn was still clutching her beloved bacon triumphantly to her chest and smirking at yet another victory. Sometimes it was good to be a Fabray.

Never had a five minute walk felt so tiresome for Quinn. It wasn't that she was overexerting herself, per say. At least, not physically. But the anticipation of what was to come was mentally tiring her out. She danced from foot to foot as though she was desperate for the bathroom as Rachel fumbled with her house keys and bowled past Rachel before the tiny diva could even set foot in her own household.

"Kitchen. Where?" Quinn ground out. It seemed to Rachel as though the insatiable need for the innocent slaughtered pig flesh had rendered Quinn nothing more than a caveman.

"This way," Rachel gestured and Quinn followed after like a cat that only loves its owner when it's meal time. Which in this case was a shockingly correct simile. Once again Rachel found herself knocked out of the way as Quinn raced past her. She was already rifling through the cupboards by the time Rachel entered the room.

"Are you looking for a frying pan?" Rachel asked as calmly as she could.

"Yes."

"Bottom cupboard, left, no, the other one, yeah oh okay you got that and _Quinn_ be _careful_!" The brunette found herself getting too stressed out watching the crazed blonde wreak havoc upon her kitchen and sat at the breakfast bar letting her drop into her arms.

A few quiet minutes passed and Rachel was beginning to feel nervous again. It was _too_ quiet... She looked up to find a content Quinn standing at the stove meticulously laying the strips of bacon out in the pan. She poured some oil over it and a pleasant sizzling sound began. Well, pleasant in _Quinn's_ eyes. To Rachel it was the final affirmation that a poor, sweet and unsuspecting pig had been killed and was now being made a mockery of on her stove. She grimaced as the smell hit her nose, but she was more than willing to put up with it if it kept Quinn quiet and distracted.

Quinn was in a world of her own. She was happy now she was cooking the food she had craved for so long. She knew it was within reach now, and could wait patiently for it to cook to perfection. A small smile curved the corners of her mouth upwards as she delicately prodded the bacon, turning it in the pan regularly so it was done evenly on each side. A timid voice reached her ears.

"Do you want some bread with that? Instead of just eating it on its own like that – I mean, I understand fully that you are looking forward to it a great deal – but it will be all the more enjoyable if you eat it with something else."

"That would be nice, thanks." Quinn answered softly. A strange calm had descended on her and she didn't feel the urge to lash out at her enemy on the other side of the bar. This was new. Rachel had also noticed the change. Whilst may not have said her name, she was happy because at least Quinn hadn't called her by her last name, or even worse, called her any of the names she had in reserve just to be rude to her.

The small singer was happy to comply, considering Quinn was being quite amicable for once, so she rose from her seat and took the bread from the bread bin. She carefully placed it on a chopping board and spread a little butter on each side, and then onto a plate which she set down on the worktop proudly beside Quinn. Quinn looked over speculatively.

"Why do you have butter if you're a vegan?" She asked curiously.

"Well, my two gay dads aren't vegan. Only I am. I would never want them to change their eating habits for me. It gets a little complicated here really. Dad is Jewish, so no pork," At this, Quinn's hazel eyes glinted dangerously and Rachel thought it best to quickly move on, "but he does eat _other_ meat, and Daddy is Muslim, which also means no pork," She'd done it again, and Quinn was gripping the handle of the frying pan so tightly her knuckles were white, "and he has other dietary restrictions but I can't really remember them all. We are mostly devoted to take-out in any case, but we tend to cook for ourselves seeing as we all have slightly different ways of eating."

"Oh." Was the only thing Quinn could think to reply with. She had always struggled with the concept of Kosher and Halal, but Rachel really confused her. How anyone could stay away from anything to do with tasty animals was beyond her.

"It's nice that you're taking an interest though, Quinn. You're very observant," Rachel said softly, watching as Quinn ladled the bacon onto the bread with such care she was almost sure the ex-cheerleader was practicing for when she gave birth to her baby.

"Well, I'd be stupid to not notice that you were spreading butter around considering I already know you're vegan," She began defensively. She was never fond of people mistaking her for being stupid just because she was blonde and a cheerleader (at least, _was_ a cheerleader).

"I just mean that _most_ people don't know much about veganism. I'm impressed." Quinn couldn't help the smile that was already set on her face grow somewhat at this. She did like to be right, and knowledgeable to boot.

"Um. I kinda really want to eat this, like, now." Quinn said suddenly. She couldn't believe she'd gotten distracted from the thing she had been going so crazy over for the last couple of hours talking to _Berry_ (of all people) about religion and diet, and had let her sandwich cool a little in the process.

"Oh, yes! Of course. Go right ahead and take a seat," Rachel extended a hand with one of her trademark over emphasised and dramatic points, including a hand on hip. Even in the kitchen she could never stop performing, it seemed.

As soon as Quinn's bottom touched the seat she was biting into her sandwich like there was no tomorrow. She released the sort of satisfied moan that only pregnant women who are having intense cravings finally satiated can do and took another bite before even swallowing the first.

Rachel watched on in a kind of sick fascination. She knew Quinn to be incredibly passionate about things, and to always throw herself headlong into any task set for her (torturing Rachel included), but this was something else. It seemed as though the entire sandwich was inhaled by Quinn, rather than eaten. She had always expected the blonde to be as graceful about eating as she was about everything else. Perhaps she was, just not when being driven insane by the meaty murder that was bacon.

"Did you enjoy that?" Rachel smirked.

"Mm." Was Quinn's monosyllabic reply. "Want more now, though." Rachel grinned at Quinn who was looking intensely at her empty plate, as if doing so would magically refill it with another.

"Here, I'll make you another then," Rachel suggested. She stood and took the plate away.

She had watched Quinn cook the bacon, and was sure it was quite easy. She was very good at learning on the spot and was always quick to learn, too – a talent that was _absolutely necessary_ if she wanted to get anywhere on Broadway – so she figured that she could at least do _something_ nice for the baby crazy blonde sat behind her.

Rachel had been thinking hard about what Quinn had said to her in the choir room. Whilst she was upset with Quinn for talking to her the way she had after they had shared a moment of almost friendship, and for going back on her word of 'not being mad', she really did have every right to. Quinn might have been wrong in her actions, but really it was nothing to do with Rachel and she had no right to create all that drama. And certainly not so close to sectionals. She had never forgiven herself for upsetting the blonde so much. In fact, she ought to use this time she had with her to apologise. Rachel flipped the bacon over once more, and turned to face Quinn. Quinn was gazing at Rachel with a look she couldn't quite read. She supposed it was just the after effects of the bacon.

"Quinn, I-I just wanted to use this time alone with you to apologise for what I did before. It really wasn't my place to tell Finn, and I know I went about it all wrong. Although when I look back on it, I'm not really sure if I _did_ do it because I wanted to date Finn. He's just not clever enough for me. I don't know why I did it, but that's no excuse. I should have gone about it differently. If I could, I would in fact go back and talk to you about it, first, rather than just stick my nose in where it wasn't wanted and ruin e-"

"Berry, don't you _dare_ burn my bacon," Quinn hissed she caught sight of the smoke rising from behind Rachel's head. Rachel whipped round, flushing slightly and turned the bacon again.

"I just... I'm sorry, Quinn. I really am." Rachel finished quietly. There was a long pause, and Rachel began buttering the bread.

"I know. Forget it, Stubbles, it's fine. It's out there now, and it's what needed to be done. Yes, you did it in all the wrong ways, but what don't you do entirely tactlessly anyway? It hardly makes a difference. It would have been ugly no matter how it came about. And in the choir room, when I blew up at you – I'm..." Quinn could tell she was about to apologise to IT, and felt slightly nauseated. This was entirely against her nature. Why was she being _nice_ to _that thing_? "I'm just really hungry right now," Quinn said hurriedly after the awkward pause. Rachel's eyes closed and she let out a quiet sigh. She was sure she was about to make progress with Quinn then. She was _sure_ that was an apology forming on her lips, but Quinn had seemed to remember herself and slipped back into her old ways as though she were changing back into her Cheerio uniform. At least she was still here with her. There was _some_ progress being made.

Rachel silently turned back to the pan made the sandwich. Once she had given it to Quinn she washed her hands three times to be sure she would ingest none of the meat that might have made its way onto her, and sat down with Quinn once more. An uneasy truce had fallen between them. They bounced between friendly conversation about glee and music in general and had a little spat over musicals (which Rachel was surprised to learn Quinn actually liked) but every now and then Quinn would let another of her mean nicknames slip. She didn't even seem to realise she was doing it, but Rachel did. The brunette kept repeating over and over in her mind that this was still progress. Quinn would never normally do so much as talk, let alone be at her house to have a meal.

Rachel's phone rang shortly after Quinn's third and final (only because there was no more bacon) sandwich. As Rachel answered it, she leant back in her chair, happily rubbing her baby bump. She held in the urge to talk to it like she ordinarily would, however. Rachel was sighing and rubbing her forehead repeatedly.

"Yes, Jesse, you _can_ come over if you really like, but I am rather busy tonight, you see. I mean I feel that perhaps it would be beneficial to both if you just – right. I'll see you in ten minutes then..." Another sigh and a click as she hung up.

"Jesse's on his way. I don't want to kick you out or anything, especially seeing as you have only just eaten and I am now going to worry all evening that you're going to suffer from cramps on the way home, but I really do think you should go. I don't think you'll get along with him well, you see,"

"No, you're probably right. I don't like his hair. Or his group. Or anything he stands for. Thanks for helping with the crazy craving," Quinn waved in the air next to her head, and before she knew it she was hugging Rachel. It was brief and stiff and incredibly awkward and Quinn was feeling nauseated again.

"Right, so I'll uh... I'll um see you tomorrow, okay Treasure Trail?" The old insult was a self defence mechanism, and both girls new it. Both were smart enough to leave well alone though. Quinn stepped out of the front door and took a step down the path, then whirled on her heel.

"Oh um... If you don't mind, please don't tell anyone I was here, alright? Or you know, that I even talked to you. Because I will deny it." And again, Quinn had left Rachel feeling incredibly confused and unsure of where on earth they stood.


	4. Chapter 4 The Weight

_A/N: Agh I finally finished writing this today, although I've been working on it since I uploaded chapter 3, but it was my birthday this weekend and I was mega-busy! I also got my first tattoo yayyyyy. ^.^ Also OMG DID YOU SEE THE SECOND EPISODE OF SEASON 2 GLEE? I felt like a twelve year old Twilight fangirl all the way through it I was so excited. Ugh. Anyway, without further ado, here is Chapter 4, 'The Weight'. Also go listen to this song on YouTube (Aretha Franklin's version) and tell me you wouldn't want to hear Quinn sing it. I DARE YOU TO._

**Chapter 4 – The Weight**

Quinn was worried she was finally losing her grip on her sanity. Her baby hormones were definitely responsible. She was going soft. She didn't like being soft. She didn't _like_ having these _feelings_ of _friendship_ for people. Quinn Fabray had never needed friends before. Santana and Brittany were like property. Yes, she liked them, but only because they were the same as her. Out there to get to the top. And the three of them _were_ at the top. Well, until she was impregnated with the bastard child she was carrying... But she had never really had an _actual_ friend. Not someone she really cared about, or wanted to listen to, or worried for. These new emotions were all a little too much for her.

It had really started when Kurt was singing "A House is Not a Home". It was a song Quinn had always loved, particularly the Dusty Springfield version, and then all she could think about was how much she wished she had a home. Sure, she may be living with Puck, but that wasn't her home. Finn's house had never been her home either. And if she really, really thought about it, the Fabray household was just that. A house. She realised she was getting sick of putting on a front. She was letting her guard down, and taking off the mask she always wore around everyone. Even herself. She was evidently a fantastic actress as she had even been able to fool herself that she was happy where she was.

If she looked at her life hard enough she could see it was all lies and pretences. What did she ever really care about being popular for anyway? She wished she had discovered this sooner, and the people of glee club, too. They were helping her see things properly, although she knew she'd have trouble admitting that for a long time. In many ways her bitchy side _was_ her, but only because she had invented that side of herself, and she knew it would be a struggle to shake it off, but she was willing to try if it meant she could feel okay in her own skin for once.

But first she'd have to deal with these strange new emotions. Right now it was longing, and jealousy. She longed to have somewhere she really felt comfortable, and longed for _someone_ she could be comfortable with. Someone who she could be the new Quinn around. And she was insanely jealous of her fellow club members who all seemed to have that. They didn't care what people thought of them. At least, not enough to stop being who they were. Kurt, for example. He was so very gay, and everyone knew. He got bullied for it a lot, but he never once tried to hide it, or deny it. Even _Berry_ seemed happy, despite having no friends and being incredibly short and annoying. She never lied to anyone about herself or her beliefs no matter how many slushies were thrown her way. Quinn knew this from experience, and she begrudgingly had to admire the honesty and passion the brunette had for everything she did. Quinn was beginning to understand that happiness came from being yourself, but she didn't like the fact that it really seemed as though it would cost her. It would probably cost her everything she had ever worked for until now.

The thing that was confusing Quinn the most was the concern she felt for Mercedes. Initially she had been outraged that two people so low in the school's popularity hierarchy were suddenly at the top and in her place as Cheerios, but not she remembered how hard it was. As a Cheerio you would bend over backwards to keep Coach Sylvester happy. Hell, if she asked you to, you'd probably jump from the top of a pyramid without a catcher, because the physical pain would be more bearable than the fury the woman was capable of unleashing.

Quinn was standing in the cafeteria trying to work out where she could sit today. She found herself starting towards the cheerleaders' table. She still did this every lunch time. Old habits die hard. She wasn't one of _them_ anymore. She no longer truly fit in with any of the groups now.

She was contemplating smuggling her food out of the cafeteria and eating in the toilets or the choir room or something when Kurt's shrill voice caught her attention. She couldn't hear what was being said, but Kurt looked thoroughly pissed off and Mercedes seemed unable to look at him properly.

She continued to watch as Kurt left her standing there alone and join the Cheerios' table. Mercedes and Kurt were practically joined at the hop, completely inseparable much alike Brittany and Santana, but there they were seemingly fighting over _food_ of all things.

Mercedes finally pulled herself together and turned to Brittany and Santana. Quinn was worried. It was though she was looking to _them_ for _advice_. Something was definitely wrong.

When Quinn saw Mercedes' forlorn expression and heard Brittany say something about a 'teaspoon of sand' it suddenly clicked. Miss. Sylvester was trying to put the big girl on a diet to lose weight. Mercedes walked away from the couple still in line, abandoning her lunch tray entirely. Rage coursed through Quinn. She marched to the 'gleek' table and sat down in the one remaining seat and stared menacingly at her food, paying no mind to the other club members around her. She would have to talk to Mercedes about this, try to talk her out of it. It wasn't _worth_ it. And she most _definitely_ had to talk to the Coach. She was sick of that woman governing peoples' lives with her bullying.

She was so deep in her thoughts on how to exact her revenge on the cheerleading coach that she wasn't awate she was being spoken to.

"Hey," A small finger jabbed her in the ribs painfully.

"Watch it," Quinn muttered warningly.

"I know you're always rude to _me_, Quinn, but don't be rude to Tina. She asked you a question." The diva said, over pronouncing every word disdainfully. Jesse was on the side of Rachel, looking bored. Quinn glared at him, then turned her attention to the quiet Asian girl opposite her.

"Go on," She said as nicely she could. She smiled, too. At least... she _tried_ to smile, but feared that it came off as more of a grimace. She really _was_ trying to be nicer, but she was still angry with Kurt and B and S and Miss. Sylvester.

"I was just wondering what you thought of Kurt's performance the other day?" Tina asked cautiously. Quinn could feel Rachel's eyes boring into the side of her head with the silent threat; _Be nice_.

"I thought it was great. His voice really suited it. I like Burt Bacharach, already, so it was hard for me not to enjoy it, really..." Quinn answered. Four pairs of eyes turned to fix her with a look of confusion.

"Y-y-you're complimenting someone?" Tina's stutter had made a comeback she was so shocked.

"_You_ like Burt Bacharach?" Rachel asked, a bemused expression on her face. She sounded surprised, but pleasantly so. Even Jesse had tuned into the conversation, a look of mile interest settling on his features. Quinn narrowed her eyes at him again, but he remained oblivious.

"Of course I do!" Quinn replied indignantly. "I know Dusty Springfield's version of 'A House is Not a Home' incredibly well, actually." There was a stunned silence.

"I never thought you would like that kind of music..." Artie said thoughtfully. Quinn was getting irritated now. They were all acing like they knew her, when they really, really didn't.

"Oh?" She questioned icily. Artie gulped. "What kind of music _do_ you think I like, then?"

"Um... I guess I've never really thought about it. I sort of thought you've be more into modern pop. What with being a Cheerio and everything," He said simply. He was blushing madly, clearly afraid of her reaction. She didn't _want_ people to be afraid of her, and the fact that people clearly still were was making her angrier.

"I _was_ a cheerleader. Not anymore. You shouldn't be so quick to judge. Unlike the rest of the Cheerios, _I_ am actually quite intelligent. And that goes for my musical tastes too. Do none of you know what my glee audition song was?" She was met with a long and uncomfortable silence. She sighed in frustration.

"So _don't_ be so quick to judge me, then." She snapped, and rose from the table, no longer in the mood for food or her team mates. As she was leaving she heard Artie whisper "So what _was_ her song then?" She whirled around in a flurry of long blonde hair.

"Say a Little Prayer. Aretha Franklin."

"Soul." Rachel stated. There was a faint and unreadable smile on her lips as she and Quinn locked eyes. Quinn nodded once primly and swept out of the cafeteria.

A Minute passed in silence as no one knew quite what to say.

"I'll go after her," Rachel said, softly. She received some very strange looks from the others around the table and remembered she wasn't supposed to want anything to do with the pregnant girl, given their tumultuous past.

"Well, no one _else_ is taking the responsibility, and we _did_ upset her. I mean, of all people to judge, _we_ are judged the most so it's nothing buy hypocritical that we did it back to her! She has every right to be upset! Not to mention she's all hormonal and... and stuff..." Rachel trailed off, berating herself. '_And stuff_'_ How inarticulate_, she thought. She kissed Jesse on the lips distractedly and whirled around, following in Quinn's footsteps.

"Is anyone else weirded out by that?" Artie asked suspiciously, looking to Tina. Tina shrugged and without saying goodbye, Jesse left the table. He had nothing to say to these talentless fools, anyway.

Quinn wasn't sure what she was doing, but she was angry now. Not angry at the others. It was an easy assumption to make. Most of the Cheerios _were_ described in the way that Artie has said, and quite accurately, too. So, no, she wasn't angry at them, but at herself for ever letting herself be associated with that kind of thing. She wished she hadn't spent so much of her life lying to everyone.

And she was really worried about Mercedes. Quinn knew how it felt to feel fat all the time, and Mercedes definitely did not need any more of her already low self-confidence taken away by Coach Sylvester.

She found herself in the choir room, and thought that perhaps if she threw herself into the dance steps she needed to rehearse for glee that afternoon, she might be able to distract herself from her worries for the rest of lunch. But dancing wasn't helping. She plonked herself wearily down on the piano stool, sighing heavily. Perhaps singing would help her. She had never been very confidant when it came to singing, which is why she never went for any solos and was content with just doing backing vocals. But that didn't mean she could get away with not practicing. Besides, working on her confidence surely wouldn't be a bad thing.

She ran through the list of songs she had to learn for glee but could not choose. Eventually she gave up and put her headphones in, choosing 'shuffle' mode on her MP3 player. A song that really hit home began to play, and Quinn almost felt as though it was playing for a reason. She opened her mouth and began to sing along, her breathy voice contrasting beautifully with the way it was actually sung.

"I pulled into Nazareth, I was feelin' 'bout half past dead,

I just need some place where I can rest my head.

'Hey, Mister, can you tell me where a girl might find a bed?'

He just grinned and shook my hand and 'No!' was all he said!"

She was dancing now too, her feet guiding her gracefully across the floor, even when pregnant the moves came naturally to her. She closed her eyes as she started the chorus, focusing solely on the music.

Rachel had moved down the corridor from the cafeteria trying to work out where the blonde had gone. She passed the auditorium, glancing in, but the jazz ensemble was rehearsing. She couldn't imagine that Quinn would try to seek refuge in there if it was otherwise occupied, so, on she went. The next on her list was Quinn's locker. She wasn't there either and Rachel sighed in frustration, turning into the girls' bathroom, praying she was here. Alas, no hormonal pregnant girl. All the stalls were empty.

_The choir room_. Rachel thought decidedly. She was sure that was where Quinn had gone. She marched decisively along the corridors and was about to enter the room dramatically when she saw who she had been looking for.

Quinn was stood in the centre of the room, facing away from the door. Rachel quietly opened the door, not wanting to make the other girl jump, but Quinn didn't even seem to notice. Rachel shut the door behind her, and took a tentative step forwards.

"Quinn?" She questioned. Quinn did not respond. Rachel didn't take kindly to being ignored – no matter how used to it she was, it still irked her – and she pursed her lips irritably.

"Qui-" She tried again, but stopped as Quinn replied. In song.

"I pulled into Nazareth, I was feelin' 'bout half past dead," The blond sang. Rachel stopped mid-step. She had never really heard Quinn sing before. She had always sung with others, always in the background. 'Swaying like props', as Quinn had once put it. Now she took the spotlight, and owned the stage.

"I just need some place where I can rest my head.

'Hey, mister, can you tell me where a girl might find a bed?'

He just grinned and shook my hand and 'No,' was all he said!"

Rachel watched, entranced by the a cappella performance before her. She knew Quinn could dance well, and still could even after she fell pregnant, but this was different. There was raw emotion in Quinn's voice, and whilst it wasn't strong in the way Rachel's was, it had its own unique beauty to it.

Quinn was still seemingly ignoring Rachel's presence and when the blonde turned a little, Rachel understood why. She could now she the headphone cables trailing from the girl's ears and leading to the MP3 player clutched tightly in her left hand, and it all made sense again. She was sure without a doubt that Quinn would stop if she knew she was being watched. So Rachel kept still, feeling a little weird for her voyeurism. She wished desperately that she could see Quinn's face, as she was sure it would make this better than it already was.

"I picked up my bag,

I went lookin' for a place to hide

When I saw Carmen and the devil

Walkin' side by side," Quinn sung with that wonderfully smoky voice of hers. _Oh no,_ Rachel thought. There it was again. This always seemed to happen this way.

It happened when she first head Finn sing, it happened when Noah showed his male lead potential with 'Sweet Caroline'. It had _certainly_ happened when she met Jesse and they sung 'Hello' together, and now here she was watching _Quinn Fabray_ perform 'The Weight' and it was happening all over again. More so than ever before.

"I said, 'Hey, Carmen, come on let's go down town?'

She said, 'I gotta go but my friend can stick around!'

So!

Take a load off Fannie,

Take a load for free,

Take a load off Fannie,

Then hey yeah yeah...

Put the weight on me!" Quinn's voice broke slightly with emotion as she sung the line, but she held the note well nonetheless. Rachel's knees went a little weak and the lump in her throat intensified tenfold. The energy and emotion Quinn was pouring into her performance was incredible. She'd never seen anything like it. And she knew that it was because this was _real_. No matter how convincing Rachel's acting was, it was always a pretence. Quinn was singing with her heart and soul, real feeling, not emulated feelings, and she was doing it to _help_ her. _This is what music is all about, _Rachel thought.

And then she discovered with horror that she had a crush on Quinn Fabray.


	5. Chapter 5 I'm Livin' in Shame

_A/N: Argh, finally. I've had this chapter finished for two days, and have _just not had the damn chance to come home and type it up _(Yes, I really do write everything by hand first). Sigh... It's here now, and I'm home again and work was wonderfully quiet today and I managed to get nine pages of chapter 6 written in my notebook, so depending on time etc. it could be here tomorrow. This is by far my most hated chapter yet, but I felt it was necessary. I'm sorry if it sucks xD_

**Chapter 5 – I'm Livin' in Shame**

Rachel couldn't wait any longer. She had to see Quinn's face. As quietly as she could, she moved around the chairs and sat down. Quinn's eyes were closed in concentration and a tear was steadily tracking down her pale cheek. Rachel thought that she might be looking at an angel. The cross that Quinn wore around her neck glinted in the low lighting of the room.

Rachel wasn't wasting any time worrying that she was attracted to another girl. After all, she did have two gay dads. She knew there was little point in stressing out about it, no matter how out of the blue it seemed to be, because she knew herself, and that meant that she knew there was no use in trying to fight it. Once she set her sights on something, she would not give up until she got it. The only worry she did have was that this was super-mean, super-straight, super-Christian, super-pregnant, ex-Cheerio, not-so-ex-tormentor, _Quinn Celeste Fabray_. But that did not mean that Rachel would give up without trying. Rachel was always one to rise to a challenge.

Quinn was still singing, her voice breaking with sadness more often now, but she still carried on doggedly.

"Catch me a cannonball

And now take me on down the line,

My bag is sinking low,

I believe it's about that time

To get in touch with Fannie,

You know she's the one

Who sent me here with her regards

For everyone, yeah,"

Quinn's eyes were squeezed tightly closed now, trying to hold it together as more tears were beginning to escape and she swayed gently to the music. Rachel had stopped breathing, she was so enthralled. Quinn opened her mouth to belt out the final chorus.

"Put the weight on-" She broke off, unable to finish the last word as her chest heaved in an uncontrollable sob. Rachel stood to move forwards to Quinn, to comfort her or something, but at that moment the tearful blonde opened her eyes and looked straight at an incredibly guilty Rachel Berry. As soon as Quinn's eyes had opened, she had remembered she really shouldn't be here listening to her.

Immediately Quinn's defences flew back into place and her eyes turned cold and her mouth was set in a thin, straight line. Her voice cut through the tension-filled air like a knife.

"Stalker much, Boy-Hips?" Her face was flushing red now, embarrassed that anyone had seen her in such a vulnerable state, not to mention the fact that she was _singing_ about it. She felt like such a cliché. It was like something out of a bad musical.

She stared defiantly at Rachel, her chin raised, daring her to say something.

"Quinn, that was unbelievable," Rachel said quietly. Quinn did not reply. She was fighting off more tears, and she angrily wiped her face.

"I knew you could sing, but that was... something else. It was beautiful,"

"... Thank you," The blonde replied at last. Her voice was hushed, and tinged with sadness. Rachel stepped forwards as if to hug her, but stopped herself.

"You should sing that for glee."

"No." Was Quinn's instant reply. Rachel winced at her sudden harsh tone.

"No," Quinn repeated, more softly this time, "That was... That was just for me. No one was meant to see it. _You_ weren't meant to see it."

"But-"

"No buts, Berry. I mean it."  
"Okay, but really, it was incredible. You should – though it's hard for me to say – you should go for a solo at some point, Quinn. You're-" Rachel stopped herself again. She had been about to say 'You're beautiful' but decided that this really was not the time to run her mouth like she usually would, and certainly not the time to let Quinn know about her very newfound feelings.

"Your voice is beautiful," She said instead.

A long silence stretched out and Quinn wanted to say 'thank you' again but feared that if she opened her mouth she really would cry.

"Do you – do you want to... talk about it?" Rachel questioned cautiously, her eyes wide and imploring and all of Quinn's walls came crashing down again.

_It was Rachel's fault,_ thought the blonde as the tears started. The stupid dwarf girl was being so _nice_ to her. _Again_. When all Quinn had ever done was be mean to her, and for no reason. The guilt pooled in her stomach and she felt sick. A sob wracked her body and then Rachel was holding her tightly in her arms, even though she was so much smaller than Quinn.

"Back off, Berry." Quinn said, but there was no real malice in her voice. Rachel said nothing, and pulled the other girl closer to her instead, rubbing her back in what she hoped was a soothing manner. Quinn let out a shuddering breath and relaxed a little, but she was still to return the embrace.

"It's okay to feel, you know," Rachel whispered. Upon hearing this, Quinn's barriers relented and she really gave into her emotions. She unashamedly wrapped her arms around Rachel's neck and buried her face into the small brunette's shoulder.

Rachel reached up to stroke Quinn's hair gently and quietly crooned sympathetic sounds into her ear, all the while holding her as tightly as she could without hurting her. Her face was pressed uncomfortably into Quinn's shoulder as she was far shorter than the blonde, and the baby bump meant she was sort of leaning over at a funny angle, and Quinn's hair was sort of tickling her nose and some of it was kind of in her mouth but Rachel didn't care because oh _God_ Quinn smelt _fantastic_. And felt it. Despite the awkward angle, Rachel knew that they just sort of... _fitted_ together well. The only reason they were locked together so uncomfortably was because of Quinn's vice-like grip on her. Rachel was valiantly fighting a losing battle to hold back on kissing Quinn. That would _definitely not_ help the situation. In the slightest. She did, however, take the liberty of snuggling into Quinn's neck.

"It's okay, just let it all out..." She breathed into Quinn's ear. Quinn sniffled.

"I-I just want m-my Daddy back," She cried. Rachel closed her eyes, her heart breaking for the taller girl. She knew Quinn's situation, and of course she sympathised, but she certainly couldn't _empathise_. Quinn was stuttering again.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," She soothed, continuing stroking the hair that cascaded down Quinn's back.

"N-n-no, it's _not_ okay. I fucked everything up." Rachel was shocked by the language but bit back on reprimanding her that that was no way for a young lady – a young _Christian_ lady, no less – to speak. Quinn didn't even seem to be aware she had even said it. Either that or she really didn't care anymore.

"It's okay. Everyone makes mistakes," Rachel said, desperate to comfort her.

"This is one monumentally huge, stupid mistake. Surrounded by countless others. I can't-I can't-" She sucked in a breath when she couldn't continue; "I can _never_ fix this. I'll go to hell, and I'm just a silly little g-girl and I j-just want a _home_ and my f_-friends _. Why did I even sleep with Puck? I d-didn't even love him and I had no reason to do it other than m-my stupid insecurities!"

The blonde's tears had soaked completely through Rachel's top and she tried to push away the concern that Quinn may well have just left snot _and_ tears on her favourite animal sweater.

"Quinn, baby, sit down, alright? I can't breathe." Rachel's eyes widened in fear as she realised she had let slip 'baby' and she'd only realised her attraction to the girl a mere twenty minutes ago. Quinn didn't seem to pick up on it, thankfully. Or if she did, she put it down to a maternal instinct kicking in. Which was what Rachel was trying to convince herself of, too.

Quinn's grip on Rachel was loosening gradually, and eventually they were stood opposite each other, slightly in the others' personal space. Neither were able to let their eyes meet. Both were definitely aware that something had changed between them. Enemies did not cry on each others' shoulders. A tentative friendship was blossoming.

Rachel grew tired of the awkward silence, knowing Quinn would not be the first one to break it, so she reached for her hand and pulled her to sit on a chair. Then she dragged another chair and arranged it closely next to the occupied one. She sat down on it and looked at Quinn, who was staring blankly at her, mouth slightly agape. _Don't kiss her, don't kiss her, don't kiss her,_ Rachel's mind chanted. _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry_, chanted Quinn's. She blinked and straightened her back a little. She composed herself as she looked at Rachel who was mouthing something repeatedly and gazing intently at her lips.

"Um..." Quinn said, just because she had to say _something_, no matter how useless the 'something' was. Rachel snapped out of whatever trance she had been in at the uttering from Quinn and flushed a little and Quinn frowned.

"Oh." She said. "I'm sorry I cried on your sweater. I think I ruined it, but that's not such a bad thing, I guess," Quinn grimaced as soon as she shut her mouth. She hadn't meant to say the last part, but evidently she could never be _just_ nice to Rachel. The brunette flushed darker and blinked rapidly.

"I'm going to ignore that last part and just focus on the apology." Quinn smiled a little.

"Sorry, force of habit. I'm working on it..." She answered meekly.

"Well, it's nice to know you're trying," Rachel said, unsure as to whether she meant it or not. It was hard to imagine Quinn ever being nice. Well, she _had_ been nice, once upon a time. Before Quinn joined the Cheerios, before they were in high school, even. But Rachel found it hard to imagine anything of the younger, sweeter Quinn to still be in there underneath her cold exterior. There _had_ been a time when they were almost friends before...

Rachel was shaken from her thoughts when Quinn laughed softly, her hands on her belly.

"What? What is it?" Rachel asked, confused.

"Chill out, RuP- um. Chill out... it's just the baby kicking. Do you want to feel?" Quinn blurted. _What the hell? 'Do you want to feel?'_ Quinn thought wildly, realising her slip-up too late. Rachel's dark eyes lit up and she grinned, nodding wildly. She bit her lip as her hands reached out and made contact. She frowned.

"I can't feel anything," She sighed, disappointedly.

"Here," Quinn took Rachel's hands in her own and moved them. She had started this, whether she meant to or not, so she may as well roll with it.

"Oh!" The brunette exclaimed excitedly, "I can feel it, Quinn! Wow..." Quinn smiled. It was hard not to smile when her little girl was letting her know she was there, but it was also hard not to smile when Rachel was looking so happy. She hadn't seen Rachel smile like that since their sectionals victory.

"What does it feel like for you?" Rachel whispered, her eyes shining as she grew bolder with her hands. She dropped to her knees in front of the pregnant girl and moved her hands in slow, gentle circles. Quinn shut her eyes, leaning back in her chair. No one had ever done this with her before. No one had shown an interest. Not even Finn, when they were still together. This was something that she was meant to experience, someone adoringly feeling the little life inside of her and appreciating it. Everyone else looked at her and thought: _Pregnant_. Rachel was now seeing her for what she really was. Pregnant _with_ a baby girl, who was very much a person and not just a thing. Not just a round shape in her belly. Not just a taboo subject. Quinn shrugged in reply to Rachel's question.

"It's... I don't know. I can't really describe it. It just _feels_." Quinn said. She spoke in a warm tone, and as Rachel looked at her she thought she had never seen Quinn look so at peace. She really was glowing. Then Rachel realised what she was doing and removed her hands. This was far too intimate.

Quinn sighed when Rachel's warm fingers retracted, and she opened her eyes to see Rachel gulping nervously.

"Are you o-" She began,

"Quinn, I would like to extend an offer of dinner at my house tonight. I can cook for you – bacon, even, if you're going to be um... craving for it, again. I-I mean, of course you don't have to come, b-but if you like, the offer is there and-"

"Berry." Quinn said firmly. Rachel paled, knowing rejection was imminent. There was a pause as Rachel collected herself.

"You don't want to. That's okay. I should have known better than to assume that you would want anything to do with me, even after out intimate little... whatever that was. I mean you're _Quinn Fabray_ for goodness' sake," Rachel babbled, talking mostly to remind herself that she was _stupid, stupid, stupid, _"of course you don't want anything to do with me..." Rachel trailed off helplessly to find Quinn smirking. Rachel's stomach sank, knowing she'd really stepped in it now.

"Jeez, talk about jumping to conclusions. I was just trying to get you to stop talking for a second so I could _actually_ answer you," Quinn threw her hands in the air in exasperation.

"Oh." Rachel said for what felt like the hundredth time since she had entered the room.

"My answer is yes."

"Really?" Questioned Rachel reproachfully.

"I said yes already, didn't I?"

"Yes, I just wasn't sure I could believe it."

"Neither can I," Quinn agreed with a raised eyebrow, "But it looks like it's bacon at the Berrys' again tonight."


	6. Chapter 6 Just for Now

_A/N: Aaaand another chapter. Was debating for ages on what to call this one, but suddenly it all made sense. You should listen to the song. "Just for Now", by Imogen Heap (whom I will be seeing live in November for the second time 3) and the lyrics are ridiculously relevant to this chapter. Also parrots are noisy. I'm house-sitting and bird-sitting for my Grandma while she's away, and as much as I love Toto, her shrieking into my ear so loudly it whistles is not appreciated. I am going to find my earplugs tomorrow._

**Chapter 6 – Just for Now**

Quinn had gone into a catatonic state. She sat perplexed and staring vacantly at Rachel as she talked and talked.

"This is going to be _so_ fun, Quinn," Said Rachel, beaming at the blonde and not seeming to notice that Quinn was not nearly _half_ as enthusiastic. "I'll just call my dads to let them know we'll be having company," Rachel said as she stood to leave the room, phone in hand.

Quinn's stomach sank. Rachel's dads were bound to know who she was and all that she had done to their daughter. _But,_ she thought, _I deserve everything that's coming to me_. That, however, did nothing to quell the butterflies rapidly morphing into rampaging elephants in her belly. This whole being 'nice' thing was going to be difficult. More difficult than she had initially thought. She was still trying desperately to stop freaking out about the fact that was going to IT's house, and she _really _had to stop calling her mean names. But 'Rachel' just didn't seem to come out of her mouth, no matter how hard she tried. It really was much easier to be a bitch than it was to be kind and thoughtful. Quinn found herself admiring the brunette's good nature and kind heart.

Rachel came bouncing back into the room, grinning from ear to ear.

"It's all sorted," She stated proudly.

"Oh, good." Quinn replied without much conviction.

The rest of the day passed much too quickly for Quinn's liking. All too soon the final bell was ringing and there was Rachel, somehow waiting outside her classroom already.

"What are you doing here?" Quinn asked, feeling somewhat overwhelmed.

"Waiting for you, of course. Are you ready to go? You're not having doubts already, are you?" Rachel asked, looking worried.

"No, no, I'm looking forward to it," Quinn said with forced cheer, adding an equally forced smile to it. Truth be told, there _was_ a part of her looking forward to the evening. It felt nice to have a friend again. Someone who wanted her there _just because_, with no ulterior motives, even if it was with _Rachel Berry_. But it really was buried deep down, and the bigger, louder part of Quinn's mind was telling her not to go, because this was Rachel What's-Her-Name who should have been sold back by her parents. Her stomach twisted in fear again.

Rachel was still grinning at her – almost maniacally – and clutching her books to her chest as they walked through the hallway together, both fending off students bustling busily around them and pushing and shoving. Quinn's hands instinctively went to her baby bump for protection and Rachel went ahead valiantly taking the brunt of the abuse. More than most would have to endure due to her lack of height. She was the perfect height to receive a backpack to the face.

There was a time where everyone in the school would have moved aside for Quinn in a heartbeat, either out of fear or respect, or maybe even both. But not anymore. Quinn was no long 'Head-Cheerleader Quinn Fabray'. She wasn't even 'Cheerleader Quinn Fabray'. Instead she was just 'that pregnant teen' and no one even looked her way twice unless it was to snigger and make comments behind conspiratorially raised hands. She sighed, wondering if she would ever get used to being this low on the popularity scale.

They finally made it to the parking lot, and to Rachel's car. Kurt was parked next to Rachel and he was meticulously placing his prized designer bag in the back seat. Quinn was surprised he wasn't strapping the thing in there for safety. He saw Rachel and a look boredom settled on his fine features.

"Hi, Rachel," He said. Then his eyes moved over Quinn, and then he did a double take. Rachel and Quinn together? This was new. And juicy. A sly smile formed on his lips.

"Well, hello there, Miss. Fabray! May I ask what it is you are doing with the lovely Miss. Berry?" He had a look in his eye that Quinn truly disliked. It made her nervous.

"I uh... um, well..." She floundered pathetically. Rachel talked loudly over her stuttering, placing a hand on the blonde's arm to get her to stop making ridiculous noises.

"Quinn is coming to dinner at mine tonight," Kurt was speechless and he blinked several times, looking between the unlikely pair as though they had both sprouted an extra head. Quinn rather felt like she really had, as her actions were truly uncharacteristic currently. She also understood his surprise, considering the history they both shared.

"It-it's because Puck's mum is Jewish," Quinn blurted. She realised what she'd said made no sense out of context.

"So, you're going to Rachel's house because you're anti-Semitic?" Kurt asked, looking utterly lost.

"No, I just uh... really want bacon?" She was not making this situation any better.

"But isn't Rachel vegan? I see... Very interesting," He said speculatively. He opened the door to his car and got in. "This sounds like another hot tub lie, Quinn," Kurt continued, that same look still gleaming in his eye.

"Oh no," Quinn whispered. Rachel looked at her curiously. "Wait!" She cried, but it was too late. Kurt was gone with a wave and a distant call of; "'Bye, ladies! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

"Oh no." Quinn said again.

"What?" Rachel asked, getting irritated that she was clearly missing out on something. Rachel hated missing out on anything, no matter how mundane. She had once thrown a tantrum because she wanted to join in with whatever her dads were arguing about doing and consequently spent the next hour vacuuming the house after having discovered the argument was over housework. She evidently had still not learned to control her nosiness.

"He thinks there's something going on between us. He'll tell everyone," Quinn said hoarsely. Rachel looked hurt.

"I know I'm not cool, Quinn, but I will not have you deny our friendship. You can go back to Puck's now if you think you can get away with that. I _will not_ be your friend in _secret_."

"You're misunderstanding me here. And _stop_ with the conclusion jumping, already. He thinks there's _something going on between us_," Quinn repeated, this time accentuating her previous words and gesticulating emphatically to the two of them. Understanding dawned in Rachel's dark eyes and she went a very bright red. Quinn's brows knitted together.

"Oh, I see. Well, how... that's just ridiculous. Ludicrous, you could even say," Rachel sputtered, "We're just friends!"

"Barely. Let's go. The damage has been done. There's no stopping him now. Just get me some bacon and I'll be able to deal with the consequences." Rachel was still red, even once they started the drive back to her house.

The drive was awkward, as a lot of their time spent together seemed to be. Neither Rachel nor Quinn could think of anything to say to one another. Both girls were lost in their thoughts. Quinn was worrying about Kurt, along with many other things a teenage girl should have to worry about. She could handle being labelled as a _friend_ of Rachel's. That was inevitable seeing as they were in glee together. She was already associated with her in that way, but being gay... and _with_ Rachel of _all_ people... That was something there would be hell to pay for. Karofsky would have a field day. Kurt got bullied for his sexuality all the time, but he had always been known as 'that gay kid that gets thrown in the dumpster'. Well, Quinn was a different story. 'Ex-head-cheerleader fallen from grace turns to lesbian lover, Rachel Man-Hands Berry.' That was definitely not a story she wanted published on Jew-Fro's blog. She just had to pray that Kurt would only tell Mercedes and no one else. What if her _parents_ heard the rumour? They were already angry enough, and they would absolutely not let her back if they thought she was 'one of those faggots'.

Quinn had never agreed with her parents on thinking that homosexuality was a sin. It was just different. It may say something in the bible, but the bible said _tons_ of stuff that made no sense at all. She couldn't believe in a god that didn't love _everyone_, especially if everyone was supposedly made in His image. Not to mention she'd grown up with Santana and Brittany as friends. They were gayer than Kurt, no matter how much they tried to hide it by sleeping around. Either way though, Quinn did _not_ need a lesbian rumour circulating to make her parents hate her more.

On top of this, was panicking about meeting Mr. and Mr. Berry. She had several horrible fantasies of being slushied by the parents on arrival. She felt like that guy in that film on death row. Knowing what was coming, but entirely powerless to stop it. But she _was_ deserving of the punishment, unlike him.

Meanwhile, Rachel was trying to calm herself down. She was still remembering the feeling of Quinn's baby beneath her hands, and the way Quinn had held her hand so tenderly and with a familiarity that should not have existed yet. She kept telling herself not to dote on it too much as Quinn would never feel that way for her. But another part of her argued that if she could lure Finn from Quinn then _surely_ she could get Quinn to do the same. She risked a glance to her right to see the blonde looking absently out of the window and just knew she couldn't give up on this. Which meant she had to get rid of Jesse.

Truth be told, Rachel had already been getting tired of him. He was just like her, but even _she_ found him annoying, and she hoped he wasn't half as bad as he was. Rachel had never imagined that someone could be more of a drama queen than she was, but Jesse managed to surprise her every day with his dramatic tantrums. She also had a sneaking suspicion he was gay. She knew these things. After all, she did have a sixth sense. No, ending things with Jesse would be fine. It was getting _Quinn_ to want her back that would be difficult. Rachel's current plan was to woo her over dinner with the best bacon sandwich ever made.

Quinn's knuckles were white from gripping the edges of the seat so tightly. They had turned onto the road Rachel lived on now, and Rachel's house was closing in on them fast. Quinn gulped as the pulled into the driveway. Rachel put the car in 'park' and unbuckled her seatbelt. Quinn did not move. In fact, she seemed to not even be breathing.

"Here we are," Said Rachel anxiously, eying Quinn who was still frozen. Rachel got out of the car and decided to be a gentleman (the irony was not lost on her) and open Quinn's door for her, too. _Chivalry never dies,_ She thought. Quinn leapt out of the car as though her seat was on fire, and glanced all around her. Rachel thought that she looked as though she was expecting an ambush. Which, in all fairness, she was expecting just that. The brunette was confused as to what was causing the girl to act so strangely, but put it down to crazy pregnancy hormones. She slipped the key into the door and stepped inside, Quinn following warily.

"Hi, Dad, Daddy!" She called, "We're home!"

"Hey, Sweetie," A gruff voice answered. Rachel grinned and dashed down the hallway kicking her shoes off haphazardly in the process and dived into the kitchen. Quinn followed sagely after her, her steps halting and unsure. There was a loop of the men throwing slushies at her and depriving her of bacon playing in her head. She stood in the doorway and look up cautiously. Rachel was being embraced tightly by both of the men, and all three of them were wearing big, goofy grins. Quinn's heart clenched at the sight. She couldn't even remember the last time her parents had hugged her like that.

"Quinn, come in," Rachel said, breaking away. She – remarkably – did as she was told.

"This is my dad, and my daddy, Hiram and Leroy. Quinn feigned confidence, a skill she was glad she had, and moved towards them extending a hand cordially.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both, Mr. and Mr. Berry," They shook hands. It was all very formal.

"Likewise," The shorter one, Hiram, said, "but really, there's no need for any of this 'mister' business. Take a seat?" She complied, relief coursing through her. They didn't seem to want to murder her thankfully. Her posture relaxed a little and Rachel took her hand as she sat down next to her. Quinn looked at the small hand in her own and smiled. She really had missed having a friend like this.

"I'm going to cook bacon for Quinn."

"That's very brave of you, Sweetie. Count yourself lucky, Quinn, she would never normally touch the stuff," Leroy said, smiling jovially. "Well, Hiram, let's leave them to it, shall we? We'll be in the living room if you need us, okay? Later," He said as he breezed past them, Hiram following behind.

A moment passed, but the awkwardness that had been overhanging the two girls had lifted.

"So," Rachel began, her smile as big as ever. Quinn wondered if her cheeks ever hurt from smiling so much. "What do you want to do?" Quinn shrugged.

"Your house, your choice."

"Well... We could watch a movie or something. Or listen to music. I don't mind."

"Movie?"

"Sure," The pair rose from the breakfast bar and walked to the living room.

"Daaaaaad?" Asked Rachel, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

"You want the TV, don't you?

"Yes. Please." Rachel remembered her manners.

"Alright, alright, we're going. We can tell when we're not wanted," The tall man joked as he rose from the couch.

"Don't you worry about us in the kitchen on those _uncomfortable chairs_..." Hiram said playfully.

"Don't worry, we won't,"

"I thought as much,"

"Thank you!" She called after them. The pair took their places on the couch and settled down, remote at the ready.

"You choose," Rachel offered. Quinn was shocked. Rachel was offering someone _else_ control? She took the remote from her.

"How about something scary? I don't want anything that might make me cry any more today," Quinn joked light-heartedly.

"Okay," Was the simply, cheery response.

An hour and a half later Hiram and Leroy peeked into the living room to see Rachel curled into Quinn's neck, hiding from the screen. Quinn was laughing at her and stroking her hair.

"Is it over yet?" Squeaked Rachel.

"See for yourself!" The blonde prodded her in the ribs, eliciting a giggle from Rachel.

"Quinn..." Rachel whined.

"Yes, it's safe. For now." She added with a devilish grin.

The two older men stepped out again.

"Hard to imagine such a sweet girl to be capable of such horrible behaviour. It almost makes me wonder if this is the same Quinn Fabray we've heard all the horror stories of." Hiram remarked quietly. Both men were looking seriously at one another.

"People can change. From what Rachel said, I don't think this _is_ the same Quinn Fabray," Replied Leroy.

"Maybe so... I'm just worried our baby's going to get hurt."  
"I know, Honey, but Rach said not to say anything on the phone. I'm more than happy to let you break your word, but only if Quinn goes back to her old self. Give her a chance."  
"I will, I will. I just worry... She's so fragile, even if doesn't show it,"

"Let's leave them to it, hey?" They disappeared down the hallway once more.

Quinn stepped out of the living room once Rachel's dads had gone. She wanted to cry. She wanted to laugh. They _did_ know, but they were willing to let her start again. Be the new person she wanted to be. Be who she really was underneath all the layers and the defence mechanism of bitchiness she had created. And Rachel was the one who had convinced them otherwise. She would prove it to them, to Rachel, and even to herself that the new, nice Quinn was here to stay, and then she remembered that since getting pregnant her baby sitting on her bladder interrupted even the emotional moments like the one she was currently experiencing and she waddled to the bathroom

"Oh no..." Rachel sighed.

"What's up?" Quinn stood and moved towards Rachel and the cooker.

"I don't know how to cook this horrible stuff. I keep thinking it's going to get up and shout 'meat is murder' at me, and then by the time I'm done panicking about that, I've forgotten what I'm meant to be doing with it," Quinn laughed.

"I'd be impressed if it did," She countered, "Here," She took the spatula from Rachel and flipped the grilled sandwich over. "You did a good job. It looks to die for,"

"You mean like those poor pigs did." Rachel responded, pouting.

"Yes, just like those tasty, succulent, mouth-wateringly delicious poor little piggies did," Rachel shoved Quinn lightly, smiling a little.

"Well, at least _someone_ is going to get some enjoyment out of their tragic and untimely deaths."

"Yes. More people would die if I didn't have my bacon intake. Trust me, it's good you made me this. The body count would have been on _your_ conscience if I went without." They both giggled, and watched as the sandwich sizzled on the grill.

"All done," Quinn put the sandwich on her plate and raced to sit down. She ate in silence, and Rachel watched her. She finished and licked her lips, then wiped her hands on the napkin Rachel passed her.

"Thanks,"

"No problem,"

"I don't mean for the napkin. I mean, I do mean thanks for that, but thanks for you know... Everything. Second chances, being there for me today. Never giving up on me, even after all I've done. What I mean to say is I-"

"You're sorry?"

"Yes. I'm... I'm sorry. For everything."

"That was very big of you, Quinn. I appreciate and accept the apology. But on one condition," Quinn paused on her journey to the sink.

"What?" She asked with trepidation.

"You have to call me my real name from now on. No more names. Not even 'Berry'."  
"But-but 'Berry' _is_ your name,"

"Why can't you just call me Rachel?"  
"I-I don't know. I just never- Um... I'm too used to being an asshole?" Rachel smiled wryly.

"Whilst that may be a very apt description for you, I would never stoop to such language. And it doesn't apply anymore. But is it really so hard to say it?"  
"No, of course it's not. I mean, we're friends now, so I _should_ call you that. I will. From now on." Quinn nodded, affirming it.

"Go on, then," Rachel pushed.

"R-Man-Ha-" Quinn was joking now, smiling as she pretended to not be able to say it, "RuPau- No, that's not it... Treasu-Stubbles? _Rachel_." Rachel's face lit up.

"Thank you."

"Don't say that, I should have been able to do it a long time ago."

"I'll take you home now, if you like?"

"Sure," But Quinn didn't want to go yet. She was getting somewhere at last.


	7. Chapter 7 The Fix

_A/N: This took far too long to write, and I'm sorry for that :( But Sue is possibly the most scary thing to ever try and write, and I'm still not happy with it. Just as a warning, I do not at all think that all Catholic priests do what Sue says, but it seemed like something ridiculously prejudice and well... Sue Sylvester to say so it went in. Sorry if I offended anyone, but it's her view not mine! xD Also a huuuge thanks to Hacchichu for the awesome review. Those are the kind of reviews I **really** love, because I get to know details on what you think. And also a thanks to Kikky, as yours is just as great. Please be more critical of my writing, guys! I need to know if you like where it's headed! Of course I love all reviews, but ones with more info make me smile more. It keeps me going :) Oh and lastly, things are going to start going more ooc now, as a) i don't have time to write every detail from the show in, as much as I love to I don't have the time or the patience to keep going through _ever_ episode so meticulously... b) it'd make the story ramble on even more than it already is and c) the faberry wouldn't make sense. I think I'm gonna start skipping ahead through time now, too, seeing as I've been stuck on "Home" for sooooo long now. ;_;_

**Chapter 7 – The Fix**

A week passed and Rachel and Quinn grew closer. The glee club members grew more and more curious. Kurt had clearly held back on telling anyone anything, but that didn't stop the knowing smirk that he had plastered on his face every time he looked at the pair. Rachel remained mostly oblivious to the attention she was getting – shockingly – and Quinn would try her hardest to ignore the many stares she got in classes, corridors and glee club as Rachel talked at her loudly. She would _not_ be embarrassed by Berry. Not anymore. She was turning over a new leaf.

Currently Quinn was trying very hard to ignore the looks the hockey players were giving her as she stood at her locker with Rachel _still_ talking incessantly about the pros and cons of 'facon', and whilst it was _still_ atrocious to want to consume anything animal flavoured, at least it wasn't _really_ an animal.

Quinn could see Karofsky and Azimio leering at her out of the corner of her eye, behind an unsuspecting Rachel. She tried desperately to pay attention to her unlikely new friend, but right now it really was hard to remember that they _were_ friends now as she mostly just wanted to throw a slushie in Rachel's face to get her to _stop talking_ for just a minute so those stupid puck-heads could back the _hell_ off.

Karofsky leant on the locker next to Quinn, Azimio assuming the same position beside Rachel. Rachel shut her mouth with an audible click of perfect white teeth against perfect white teeth. Quinn grimaced.

"Got yourself a new boyfriend, Fabray?" Karofsky asked, obviously proud of himself for thinking up an insult all on his own. As if Quinn and the rest of the Cheerios had never insisted Rachel was a man countless times before. Azimio snickered childishly. Rachel ignored them both, as did Quinn, although her eyes deceived her as one twitched in irritation.

"At least it can't get you pregnant, seeing as you've already got that one sorted for yourself," Azimio added in. Rachel began to walk away.

"Wait," Quinn called after her, trying to hurry to grab the book she needed for their next class. Karofsky slammed her locker shut as she was reaching for it. Quinn wanted to hurt him. _I'm a _new_ person, I'm a _new_ person, _she repeated in her head. She took a deep breath and patiently – or at least she _tried_ to seem patient – reached to open her locker again. Once more it was slammed and she barely pulled her hand out of the way in time.

"What do you want, Karofsky?" She snarled.

"Ooh, vicious," He jeered, "You don't scare _anyone_ anymore, Fabray. You're _nothing_. I can see how low you've sunk, if you're okay to be seen with _that_ in public. So, if you're hanging out with that thing, then you won't mind if we just..." He pulled a slushie from behind his back, "help you feel at home with this?"

"Don't even," Quinn warned. Azimio snickered again. Quinn thought that he sounded like an asthmatic donkey, not that that really helped in any way, shape or form.

"Don't even what? Do this?" His arm went backwards, ready to attack.

Then his face was purple.

"You _bitch_!" He cried, whirling round to tower above Rachel who had pushed his arm to cause the slushie to backfire on himself. Quinn was snickering like Azimio now. That is until she saw the fear in Rachel's wide, brown eyes and the look of pure rage on Karofsky's face. _He's going to hit her_, she thought desperately.

"Dude, don't hit a girl!" Azimio cried, suddenly thinking he had _morals_.

"You're gonna _pay_ for that!" There was a bang as Rachel was shoved against the lockers.

"_Hey_," Quinn's voice cut through the heavy air. HBIC was back with a vengeance. "Touch her again and so help me God I _will_ castrate you, Karofsky," Her voice was low and dripping with venom.

"What you gonna do, Juno? Waddle at me with your big, fat, bowling ball for a belly?" Karofsky jeered. If possible, Quinn got angrier. The whole corridor watched in horrified silence. Jacob Ben-Israel was taking notes and looking ecstatically at the altercation.

"_What _did you call me?"

"Fatty."

"Say it again."

"_Fatty,_" He spat the word, and Quinn wiped the saliva from her face coolly. The calm before the storm settled.

"Just one more time, please?"

"Bring it, Fatty,"

Karofsky doubled over with a shockingly good impersonation of the well-known 'Wilhelm Scream'. It wasn't graceful, it wasn't elegant, and it certainly wasn't as cool as Quinn had thought it would be, but she dropped to one knee and punched him. In the groin. _Punched_, not kicked. But by God, it had done the job. She clutched her bump as her baby kicked in appreciation. Karofsky was crying. Rachel was looking at her like she was an angel. Azimio looked like he might wet himself at any second. Everyone else in the corridor was looking on at the scene before them with their mouths in the shape of a capital 'O'. Somebody whispered that Karofsky just got 'owned' by a '_girl'_. Then someone piped up with the 'technical' term for what Karofsky had had demonstrated upon him. Something that rhymed with 'stunt-hunted'. Rachel cast a disapproving look their way as there was _never_ an excuse for the 'c' word. Then there was a frenzy of whispers, some about whether Karofsky could ever father children, some in shock that Quinn would defend Rachel What's-Her-Name.

Then Miss. Sylvester arrived.

"What's going on here?" She asked with a look of disdain. "Did you go into early labour from the stress of waddling around like some sort of senior citizen penguin, Q?" There was a pause as Quinn tried to think of what to answer with. She chose not saying anything at all.

"She was defending me, Miss. Sylvester," Rachel said quietly.

"And why on _earth_ would she ever want to do that? Q, have those baby hormones you have flying around in that misshapen body of yours given you early dementia? What happened to you? You used to be so much like a young me, and now here you are... defending those that were once your enemies. And you, Karofsky, quit blubbering like a little Catholic boy after he's seen the priest for some 'private prayer time' and get yourself cleaned up. You should know to _never_ incur the wrath of a pregnant woman because she will come down on you hard; like a ton of bricks. In fact, like a ton of angry, tearful, pregnant bricks. Now _move along_ people, there's nothin' to see here!" And just like that, everyone bar Rachel, Quinn and Miss. Sylvester were gone.

"Thank you," Quinn whispered.

"Don't thank me. It's nice to see that you've still got a backbone underneath that pregnancy, even if it is straining from all of the extra weight. I can practically _smell_ the bacon on you. You should stick to your diet, you know." She stalked away, pushing any kids stupid enough not to see her coming into other kids stupid enough to be in the same vicinity as she was.

"Are you okay?" Quinn asked softly, extending her arm to Rachel. She looked shaken and her tanned face was pale.

"I'm fine. I didn't hit the lockers that hard, they just made a dramatic noise. Suits me I guess..." She chuckled half-heartedly. Quinn enveloped her in a hug, running her hands up and down the diva's back. Rachel hummed in approval and sighed, enjoying the tender embrace.

A loud and over exaggerated throat clearing made them spring apart instantly.

"I hope I'm not _interrupting _anything..." Said Kurt, his face smug as he smirked mischievously as them. "But Mr. Schuester says he'd appreciate it if you actually came to class sometime today, rather than canoodling in the corridor." Now it was Rachel who was clearing her throat.

"Yes, well, thank you for passing the message on. We'll be there in a minute," Kurt smiled at them again and bowed before turning and heading back into the classroom.

"Thank you for rescuing me. It was really very brave of you. You didn't have to hit him, though," Rachel continued with a shy smile.  
"Yeah, maybe so, but he _did_ deserve it. No one gets away with calling me fat."  
"You're not fat, you're pregnant. And now you're my pregnant knight in shining armour. Thank you, again." Rachel placed her hand carefully on Quinn's cheek and pressed a light kiss on the other. Before Quinn had a chance to react, Rachel was walking into class. Quinn blinked, a blush rising in her porcelain cheeks. It was strange to think that just two weeks ago she would have been disgusted with what had just occurred, but now... Now she wasn't sure _what_ she felt. But it wasn't disgust. Then, she too, walked into Spanish.

Once again, Quinn found herself heading towards the Cheerios' table in the cafeteria. She stopped midway and turned about-face in the direction of the gleek table.

"And stop trying to make me eat you!" Mercedes shouted. Quinn looked at the girl curiously, and then it all clicked into place. Mercedes was clearly still trying to lose weight was hallucinating that her friends were food. Quinn knew this was exactly what was happening because it had happened to her countless times. Then Mercedes' eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed.

Quinn dumped her lunch in front of a bemused freshman and was at Mercedes' side in a heartbeat. Tina helped her half carry, half drag the unconscious girl to the nurse's office. Quinn silently thanked God that Terri Schuester was no longer the school nurse, as prescribing Vitamin D would so very definitely not help in this situation.

"It's okay, Tina, I've got it from here," Quinn said quietly as she moved Mercedes into a chair. She had come around on the way there asking where her pie was and was still unable to hold herself up. The nurse opened the door, beckoning to Mercedes. Tina glanced at Quinn, unsure if she really should go or not. After all Mercedes was her friend, too. "Seriously Tina, it's alright. You go." Tina nodded and walked away, glancing over her shoulder as Quinn took Mercedes round the waist and supported her as she stood.

"Hmm..." Said the nurse with a frown. Mercedes looked at her questioningly. Quinn already knew what was coming. She was going to tell Mercedes that she fainted because he blood pressure was low.

"Your blood pressure's low, maybe that's why you fainted..." Quinn's lips quirked in a wry smile. Either the nurses of this school were all really stupid, or Coach Sylvester was paying them to keep quiet. Or maybe threatening them. There was no way that every nurse the school had ever employed had never realised that the only girls passing out from low blood pressure were the girls sporting the cheerleading uniform. The nurse left the room to fetch Mercedes some ginger ale, and Quinn moved in, taking her seat. She offered a granola bar to the abnormally sullen looking Mercedes.

"Thanks, I'm not hungry..." Quinn wanted to pin Mercedes to the bed, force open her mouth and shove the food down her throat, and if she were head cheerleader still, she really would have done. Instead, she repressed the violent urge (even if it was to do a good deed, she was sure that things could be handled without being a total bitch to get her point across) and spoke instead.

"Yes you are. You're starving," Mercedes looked quizzically at her from the corner of her eye. Quinn continued, "I know; I've been there. Did all the other kids start looking like food right before you fainted?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?" Mercedes was on the defence now. Quinn smiled sadly at her, her eyebrow slightly raised. This was like déjà vu in reverse.

"Been there," She repeated, more firmly although her voice was still soft. She was wishing that someone had been there for her and forcing granola bars down her throat and talking nicely to her when she was in this situation. At least she was able to fix it for someone else before it got out of hand. She remembered too well the gnawing hunger within her, the fear of gaining even the slightest amount of weight, the anguish when you gave in and ate something you shouldn't have, because it wasn't part of the 'diet', only to bring it all up again out of guilt. The constant dizziness that threatened to topple you over onto the floor with every step you took. She held the food out again, shaking it slightly.

"Eat the granola bar." Mercedes reluctantly reached out and took it from her. She was still cautious Quinn noticed with a hint of sadness.

"Why are you being so nice to me? I can't remember the last time that you said two words to me that weren't 'you' and 'suck'." Quinn also knew this would come. She was of course acting completely out of character. But she was a bigger person now. Literally. I mean look at her, there was no use in denying that belly any more.

"Because I was you; scared, _hating_ myself for eating a cookie... But I got over it,"

"Yeah, well of course you did Miss. Pretty-Blonde-With-the-White-Girl-Ass-" Quinn swallowed the anger, and the urge to force the granola bar Mercedes was slowly unwrapping down her throat again, but this time not to help, to stop her from insulting her. She hated that it was so easy to dole out the insults, yet so difficult to take them, and Mercedes was only grieving, not really meaning what she said. Quinn had a lot of work to do, but she swallowed and cut her off, still trying to keep her voice calm.

"When you start eating for someone else... So that they can grown, and be healthy, your relationship to food changes. I realised that if I'm so willing to eat right to take care of this baby," Her hand automatically came to rest on her little girl, rolling over inside of her, "why am I not willing to do it for myself?" Mercedes was crying. Quinn didn't want this to happen and she leaned forward, fervently taking the other girl's hand in her own.

"You are so lucky, you've always been at home in your body..." Mercedes chewed anxiously on her lip and Quinn squeezed her hand again, imploring, "_Don't_ let Miss. Sylvester take that away from you." Mercedes looked down and shook her head.

"I'm so embarrassed..." She sniffled and finally met Quinn's eyes. Quinn smiled reassuringly, "This isn't me. How did I become this person?" Quinn knew the answer to this one too, and sighed a gentle, humourless laugh.

"You are beautiful. You know that. I'm gonna stay here with you until your mum comes, okay?" Quinn said, nodding and trying to smile through the tears that were threatening to spill over. Mercedes nodded and launched herself at Quinn, wrapping her in a warm hug. Quinn's heart lifted. She had really helped someone today. In fact, she had helped two. First Rachel, and now Mercedes. If she kept at it, she really could be a better person, and soon she wouldn't have to keep feeling the relentless guilt that was always in her heart these days, threatening to make her sick. She just had to keep going, and she could fix this. One thing at a time.


	8. Chapter 8 Suspended in Gaffa

_A/N: Ugh, okay, so I've only just realised that does _not_ add in the breaks I format into the document in Word to break up jumps between scenes in Word. Gah. So I'm sorry for those who have been confused in previous chapters. But I've put them in manually this time. Secondly, this chapter was **fun**, but oh God it was hard. There are some bits where I'm not sure if I conveyed things properly. For instance there's a bit where there's like... _the_ world's longest sentence ever, which is supposed to indicate Quinn's thoughts being in over-drive and pretty much non-stop, but I worry it might read as though the full stop on keyboard broke or something. I promise you, it works fine. Thirdly, Hacchichu continues to be my favouritest (yes I did just make that word up) reader. Reviews like that literally make my day. I was at work when I got the e-mail, and actually I got told off by my manager for grinning too much (she was kidding - I think)_. _And I do hate to beg, but **pleeeeeease** review. I need feedback. I want to know what you think of this story so far, whether you love it or hate it. I don't care! I'm just glad people are reading! And I want to know how to make it better!_

_I'm also like, _really_ desperate to start doing some oneshots at some point, which probably would result in me taking a bit of a break from this story, as I barely have time to write as it it, but there's just been so much inspiration lately I think I might actually explode if I get some of my ideas down on paper. Or... you know, on my monitor._

_And now I'll shut the hell up and let the DRAMA ENSUE. Oh yes, there is some srs drama here. Like srs srs.  
_

**Chapter 8 – Suspended in Gaffa**

Rachel closed her locker and grinned at Quinn.

"I'll see you at lunch, okay?" The diva said brightly, standing on her tip-toes so she could peck Quinn's cheek. Quinn was mostly used to this by now. Since the day she had floored Karofsky, Rachel had kissed Quinn, or hugged her, at every opportunity. Quinn didn't really mind, it was mostly like having a happy little puppy following her around, and she liked dogs in any case.

Rachel waltzed away down the corridor and Quinn turned to head away to her own class. She was stopped by a menacing scowl from Santana who was stood in front of her.

"What's your game?" She asked, hands on hips. Quinn shook her head in confusion.

"I don't understand. I can't join in with gym class anymore; they say I might strain myself or fall and hurt the baby..."

"Don't play coy with me, Q, it doesn't suit you. B can get away with it, but you can't. What's your game?"

"Santana, I _really_ don't know what you mean. What have I done to upset you now?"

"What, you mean _apart_ from sleep with my man before we broke up? Or how about the time you ripped off my Barbie's head because I wouldn't lend you the red crayon, or maybe..." Quinn winced. Maybe she should have thought about the way that would come across before she opened her mouth.

"Yes, apart from those things. What is it that is _currently_ bothering you?" Quinn asked, as calmly as she could. There was no point in getting wound up, it'd only fuel Santana's anger more.

"You getting all snugly with Wheezy and the dwarf. I saw you rush to their aide last week, and Stubbles won't leave you alone now. She was like, practically drooling all over you when she planted that big, wet kiss on your hideously pale cheek. Why are you letting her? You always have a game plan, and I want to know what going on," She demanded, stepping closer.

"I-I don't _have_ a plan or anything. I _like_ Mercedes, I was trying to help her. I just suddenly realised we really are similar, I mean... She's going through what _we_ were going through when we started the whole diet, and she is nice, if you ignore her casual racism... And Rachel's-"

"_Rachel_? Since _when_ did you call it by its name? You _hate_ her, Quinn. I don't know how you can have just done a complete one-eighty. There must be _some_ reason behind it. There must be something for you to _gain_ from this." Santana prodded Quinn on the shoulder accusingly, her ponytail swinging behind her as her head bobbed.

"I just want to make things better. I've been mean, and now I _know_ what it feels like to _be_ them. To be invisible. I was wrong in the way I used to torture them, and I'm just... I don't want to be a bitch anymore, you know?"

"No, I don't know. This isn't _like_ you, Q. The only time you're nice, is when you're playing some sort of elaborate joke on them. Oh, and Berry's totally gay for you, in case you didn't already know,"

"I- what?"

"_Don't_ fuck up again. We need her to win regionals, alright?" With one last accusatory poke, Santana was marching away down the corridor in a fashion that Sue Sylvester would be proud of.

"Argh!" Quinn growled, and banged her head sharply into the lockers. It seemed as though she couldn't even be nice without people doubting her. She had absolutely no intention whatsoever of hurting Rachel _or_ Mercedes. She was different now, but of course Santana would presume otherwise. Santana was the one who knew Quinn the best as her second in command. At least, she was before she was pregnant and actually mattered socially. But she _wasn't_ going to let Santana get to her though. It was hard work being how she was now, but it felt _good_ to wake up in the mornings and be true to herself every day, rather than putting up all those walls, and that icy facade.

But what Santana had said about Rachel... Surely she didn't feel that way about her, did she? She squirmed uncomfortably. She didn't think she minded if Rachel really _did_, but she really didn't like the whole not knowing part. It was understandable, Quinn thought. Rachel always did latch onto everyone that ever showed any sign of being nice to her. Hell, if Kurt befriended her, she'd probably even try for him. Although, this could make things awkward now. And she really didn't want to give Kurt any more ammunition. No, she _had_ to find out if what Santana said was true, and then put an end to it if it was. She didn't want to hurt Rachel, but she really already had enough to deal with without the added stress of being labelled as gay.

She plodded into her class a whole ten minutes late, muttering 'Morning sickness' when reprimanded for her tardiness. She just had to figure how to know for sure what Rachel felt for her.

Rachel sat in class, for once not diligently taking notes, staring out of the window and scheming. Clearly she needed to up her game a bit. Whilst Quinn wasn't pushing her away every time she kissed her, she certainly didn't seem to be willing o hand them out in return. She was considering paying Karofsky to attack her again so that Quinn would come to her rescue, but that would just be too much... right? She pushed the thought out of her mind. She knew if she thought about it enough, she'd end up doing it anyway, and that really _was_ too far. She would have to be more subtle than-

"Rachel?" A sharp voice cut her off mid-thought. She panicked when she realised it was the teacher and she had no idea what she had been asked, or even what she was supposed to be learning. Which class was she in again?

"Would you like to answer the question?"

"Um... I'm terribly sorry, but could you repeat that? I'm just finding it very difficult to follow," She smiled wetly and the teacher sighed, beginning again, but Rachel had already drifted off, thinking of a certain Quinn Fabray again.

"Hey, B," Quinn said with a smile as she approached the ditsy cheerleader. Brittany was staring mournfully at Jacob's hair.

"Oh, hey, Quinn!" Brittany grinned and pulled her into a hug. Quinn suddenly remembered how much she missed hanging out with Brittany and Santana. Outside of school they were just three friends. Three teenage girls out to have a laugh, but in school they wore other identities to get to the top. Or at least, Santana and Quinn did. Brittany was more than happy to just follow after, but she was never mean to anyone.

"I've missed you, Q," Brittany said quietly, her lips tugged downwards in sadness.

"I've missed you too, B," Replied Quinn seriously.

"Mr. Quackers misses you, too. You have to come over soon and see! He's so big! He lives in the bath now." Brittany's eyes were shining with excitement and it was infectious. Quinn was grinning along with her now.

"I will, I will, I promise. It'll be just like old times-"

"Except that you're pregnant now," Brittany chimed in, ever helpful.

"Yes, there is that. But listen, I have a question about Rachel."  
"I like Rachel, but she confuses me." There was a silence as Quinn waited for Brittany to explain this statement more, but evidently she wasn't going to without a prompt.

"Um... How so?"

"I don't understand her clothes. I don't know why anyone would to wear their little sister's clothes _and_ their grandmother's clothes all at once," Quinn stifled a giggle.

"No, I don't get it either. But Santana said something to me earlier. She says that Rachel... you know... _likes me_. Do you think she does?"  
"Of course she does! You're friends now. I'd like to be friends with her too! Do you think she likes me?"  
"I think she'd like to be friends with you, yes. You should talk to her about it. But that's not what I mean," Quinn explained patiently. She'd always been able to deal with Brittany's slowness, and actually found it very calming to be around her, as everything in Brittany's world was black and white, and so simple. Most would get frustrated in having to explain everything to her all the time, but she and Santana had both always adored the girl.

"What I mean is Santana thinks that she has a crush on me."  
"She sat on you?" Quinn sighed.

"No, B, Santana think that Rachel likes me so much she wants to date me!" Understanding finally dawned in Brittany's eyes.

"Oh! I get it! I don't know, but I'll see if I can tell and I'll let you know. I've always been good at that," She said thoughtfully. Quinn knew this, which is why she had approached her in the first place. Brittany had always been able to smell romance much like a shark can supposedly smell blood from a mile away or whatever.

"But... I thought that _you_ wanted to date _her_ though."

"What? No! I'm not gay!"

"But you always look at Rachel funny."

"Yes, because I'm thinking of ways to torture her. Or at least, I used to,"

"You were covering up how you really felt. You look at her the way San looks at me. And you go red whenever she kisses you." Brittany said resolutely. Quinn spluttered.

"What? That's because it's _embarrassing_! I mean, she's _Man-Hands_!"

"And you're always mean to her,"

"Exactly! Of course I don't have a big gay crush on Rachel when it's an effort to be barely civil towards her."

"Q, shh, you're shouting and scaring the freshman!" Brittany whispered. Quinn looked around her sheepishly, realising it was true.

Brittany pulled Quinn along after her and into an empty classroom.

"Okay, sit down." Brittany seemed to be experiencing one of her rare moments of clarity and perceptiveness. "You know when we first started school, back when we were kids?" Quinn nodded dumbly.

"Do you remember how Ben would always call you mean names and push you over and steal your food and stuff?"

"Yes, and then me and San would go kick his ass for being a jerk," Quinn said coldly, her eyes narrowing at the memory.

"Yes, but do you remember the day that he shoved you into that really big puddle and then helped you up and he asked you if you would marry him?"

"I pushed _him_ into the puddle and said no... What's your point?" Quinn was confused. Why was B talking about this stuff from so long ago? What did it even matter?

"Well, I think that it's like that with you and Rachel, but she's you, and you're Ben. You're mean to her because you don't know how to be nice and act on your feelings."

"Okay, you know what? I have heard enough of this. This is ridiculous. I _do not _like _like_ Rachel Berry!" She stood up and stormed from the room – consequently in a way that would have made Rachel proud. She was about to slam the door when Brittany called after her.

"But don't you want to know if she likes you?"

"No!"

"Just kiss her!" _Then_ the door slammed.

"Hey!" Quinn froze, anger bubbling through her. She so did not need any lip from Santana on top of all this.

"What?" Her voice was cold and harsh.

"You better not have just upset my woman, because if you did? There _will_ be hell to pay. Don't take it out on her just 'cause you're fighting with your new man."

"Back _off_, Santana! And she is _not_ a man!"

"Sure, sure. Man-Hands and Quinn, sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" Santana sing-songed. Quinn was advancing towards her, literally shaking with rage.

"First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby's carriage! Oh wait, I suppose I should change that so the baby bit comes fir-oof-" Santana was on the floor, hand over a bloody nose.

"Take that back!" Screamed Quinn, towering over the Latina.

"No," Santana said defiantly. She never did know when to back down. Quinn raised a leg, ready to kick.

"Quinn, don't," Pleased Brittany. No one could help but listen to Brittany when she spoke like that. Quinn stepped away.

"Good dog," Said Santana, snidely, getting to her feet. She eyed Quinn angrily, wiping her nose with her arm. "You are _so_ lucky you're preggers, Q, else I'd be about to make your dentist a _very_ rich man." She snarled.

"Ugh, whatever," Quinn snapped and stalked away.

As soon as she was round the corner and out of sight, she deflated. The adrenaline was seeping away, leaving her feeling nauseous and dizzy and mostly confused about everything that had happened. How had this all got turned around on her? Her hand throbbed painfully and she clenched and unclenched it a few times to work out the stiffness. She slumped into the girls' bathroom and leant her forehead against the mirror as she rinsed her hand under the warm water. The water was quickly turning pink and she winched, realising it wasn't just Santana's blood on her knuckles.

The bathroom door swung open and Quinn took a shuddering breath, readying herself for whatever else Santana was going to throw her way. But no abuse reached her ears. Instead, a quiet gasp did. There was a flurry of footsteps and hot breath on her neck, and then Rachel was gently touching the swollen hand.

"Oh my goodness, Quinn, are you alright? Was this Karofsky? I'll _kill_ him if it was. We should get you to the nurse's office in case it's broken-"

"Shut it, Berry. And get your stubby little fingers off me. I'm fine," She snapped, snatching her hand away.

"Quinn," Rachel gasped, taken aback by the sudden abrasiveness in the other girl's voice, "I'm only trying to help."

"I don't _need_ your help. I don't _need __**anyone's**_ help. So why don't you just go crawl back under your bridge and wait for the three little billy goats to come along?" The insults were flowing out of her just easily as they used to, and Quinn felt a surge of comfort in the familiarity. Rachel was blinking back tears.

"I thought you'd changed. I guess I was wrong," Rachel said brokenly, beginning to turn away. She would not let Quinn make her cry again.

"Jeez, Stubbles, live up to your namesake and _man up_. Stand up for yourself for once," Quinn pushed Rachel slightly. The tears the little diva had been fighting dried up instantly. She batted Quinn's hand away roughly.

"Get _off_ me. I'm _tired_ of you _pushing_ people around! You have no right to treat people the way you do! You think that it's okay to just bully people and order slushie facials, when it _isn't_. All you are is an insecure and frightened little girl, and I wish I'd never _tried_ to be friends with you!" Rachel shouted into Quinn's face. She was panting, and suddenly realised what she'd done. What she had done was really put her foot in it. _No one_ spoke to Quinn Fabray that way and got away with it.

Quinn's eyes bored into Rachel's, her gaze unrelenting and steely. Rachel covered her mouth with her hand and tried to back away. She really wished she'd managed to hold that little tirade in. As much as she believed in honesty and showing your emotions, and of course _drama_, this probably wasn't the best of times to lose control. Quinn stepped forwards as Rachel continued to back away. Her hand encircled Rachel's wrist in a vice-like grip, wrenching it away from Rachel's face. Quinn continued stepping forwards, forcing Rachel further and further back until she was pinned against the wall.

"What are you going to do to me?" Rachel said in hushed tone, afraid of speaking too loudly in case she angered Quinn further. At her words, Quinn's mind snapped somewhere unrecognisable and then Rachel broke eye contact, her gaze flickering to Quinn's perfect, rosy lips. She cursed herself for thinking in such a way at such an inopportune time, but teenagers will be teenagers, and hormones will be hormones, meaning sex is never far from anyone's mind. Before Rachel had time to look up again, Quinn had smashed her mouth against her own.

It was quite painful, really, noticed Rachel. There was no tenderness, just a hard sort of pressure. So hard, in fact, that her teeth were pushing uncomfortably against her lips. She whimpered, unsure of what to do. Quinn relented on the pressure a little and a small sigh escaped her, and the last of Rachel's resolve went down the drain.

She responded to the kiss, pressing softly against the lips she had been wanting to kiss for so long now. Quinn's arms were on either side of her, palms flat against the tiles. Rachel's own hands found their way to Quinn's waist, and she pulled her forwards a little, so their bodies were touching. Her hands moved to Quinn's baby bump, rubbing gentle circles over it.

Quinn was delirious. She had never meant to snap at Rachel. In fact, she had been glad to feel her gentle touch instead of a biting remark from Santana, but she was still angry from before, and her head was all over the place and she didn't know if she _did_ think it was okay for Rachel to _like_ like her and before she'd had a change to figure things out for even a second she was _there_ in that typical almost annoying, but mostly kind of sweet way that Rachel always seemed to do things in and before she knew it she was lashing out, and then Rachel was shouting back and _God_ her lips looked _divine_ when she was angry and then suddenly Rachel was all she knew and they were kissing but somehow it _was_ okay and she was opening her mouth, deepening the kiss and it was like someone lit a fire in her stomach. She's never felt _anything_ like that before, and it scared her. But what scared her more was that she _liked_ it.

She tangled a hand Rachel's beautifully soft hair and tugged a little. Rachel gasped for air and Quinn took the opportunity to slip her tongue against Rachel's and _Jesus Christ_ that fire was _spreading all through her_. She pulled harder on Rachel's hair, but the brunette had stopped responding.

Rachel tried to push her away. Quinn did _not_ like that. She was stronger than the other girl, anyway. Rachel pushed more firmly.

"No," She said in a tone Quinn had never heard before. Rachel turned her head away as Quinn moved in again.

"No, not like this. It wasn't meant to be like this," Quinn was kissing Rachel's cheek, her nose, her neck, her ear. Rachel _so_ did not want Quinn to stop, but this wasn't right. It was meant to be _romantic_, not something started out of anger.

"Quinn, _stop_." Rachel said loudly and the blonde was suddenly back on earth. She stumbled away.

"R-Rachel, I-"

"Don't." Rachel ran from the bathroom.

"Shit." Quinn whispered into the silence.


	9. Chapter 9 I Never Loved a Man

_A/N: I am so sorry this has taken so long. But it is a very lengthy chapter, so does that make it better? There a couple reasons this is so late... Life kinda got in the way. Lots of drama at work, and lots of drama which meant my three days off were spent in and out of hospital (not me), and everyone is fine! But it did get rather time consuming. Also this chapter just did _not want to happen_. But hey, here it is. Major spoilers for 'Bad Reputation'. I know I said I wasn't gonna go along episode by episode, but I figured I was gonna challenge myself. Originally, I was gonna leave out the glist entirely, but then I was like 'you know what? No. I want to have my story work as though it's the in between scenes of the show, and then the bits that do feature have a Faberry influence. So it's like everything on season 1 happened BUT OFF SCREEN FABERRY WAS REALLY THERE. But it's bloody hard to make it work, and to make it seem plausible in many cases, but I think I'm getting there. Let me know. Hacchichu, this means you. Your last review was like... almost as long as the chapter, so I'm looking forward to this update's one ;D_

_Oh and lastly, the last scene can maybe make sense without knowledge of the song, but it's chapter 8's title 'Suspended in Gaffa' by Kate Bush. For those who don't know the song, it's about wanting something (in the song's case it's about religion) and having it dangled pretty much in front of you, but never being able to quite reach it. A little like something that you can always see just out of the corner of your eye, but never quite manage to look at it properly. Well, I figured that song was perfect for them, and that's why the _last_ chapter had that title, and not this one, as it was the whole 'want, almost get, not quite' kinda thing. Go listen to the song, because it will help you get this, and because you should just you know... love Kate Bush. Here, have a link; _ http:/www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=5n8tRputb_I _(holy crap, it's a version of the video I've never seen :O)_

_Really really lastly this time. I had a really lame joke about The Rocky Horror show (an insult to Rachel) which I've had in mind for aaaaaages just not had the chance to use yet, and I was worried that it might actually get written in the show and then I wouldn't be able to use it, but they DIDN'T. HA. So I can use it at a later point and not look like I've nicked it. -smug face- Okay, now you can read that chapter._

**Chapter 9 – I Never Loved a Man**

Rachel had a plan. That wasn't unusual, of course, because when did she not have a plan? Whether it be something as simple as planning how to tackle her calculus homework, or be it her lifelong dream: 'become a star on Broadway', Rachel Berry _always_ had a plan. But this current plan was pure genius, she thought. Two birds with one stone, and all that. She was about to become – her words – 'musically promiscuous'. It was a failsafe!

"I'm going to stop you. You had me at 'sex tape'. How can I help?" Said Artie, grinning up at Rachel. He was a little nervous, as Rachel was pretty much bent double over him and didn't seem to care that she was really in his face. He was trying to stop himself from rolling backwards in retreat, but he was curious.

"Hold on to your hat, because Rachel Berry," She paused dramatically, glancing every which way in the hallway before continuing in a stage whisper, "is about to become _musically promiscuous_." She was waggling her eyebrows in such a way that Artie was worried that they might even crawl off her head if she kept it up. She stepped round Artie and began pushing him against his will along the corridor.

Artie knew what 'musically' meant, obviously, and he also knew what 'promiscuity' was. What he couldn't figure out was how one was to become 'musically promiscuous', but he was sure that in no time Rachel would have explained fully, and then some.

Rachel was furious. She really was. The 'Glist' had offended her, and it had offended her in many ways. Not just because she was placed last with the shockingly cruel minus five that she had been given, but because she and her fellow glee clubbers should not be made into numbers on a sheet of paper that turned them into nothing but sexual objects. But it mostly had to do with the fact that she was last on the list. Well, she would show them. All she needed to do now was enlist the boys. And Santana and Brittany. That bit would be hard.

She already knew who wrote the Glist. She had spent most of the previous evening making charts and diagrams of who was the most likely culprit. At first she really had thought it was Noah, somehow still upset over the fact that she never let him touch her boobs, let alone go _all the way_. But she knew Noah, and he would have quite happily admitted doing it. Subtlety was definitely not his forte. It certainly wouldn't have been Artie, Tina, Mercedes or Kurt. They wouldn't dare do something like that, and they weren't even on the list in any case. She was quite sure it wasn't Jesse, as he hardly knew anyone at WMHS. Matt and Mike were out, because they were so quiet in Glee, and she highly doubted the well known 'it's always the quiet one' line didn't apply here.

This was definitely something alike to the thinking of a Cheerio. They always opted for mental torment, rather than physical. But which Cheerio? Rachel doubted that Brittany would have come up with something like that, plus she wasn't even in the top three. So, Brittany was out. Which left Santana. But Santana already had a reputation. And she was bound to have put herself first, when in actuality, she was second, scoring behind none other than Quinn.

Quinn was an ex-Cheerio. Head-Bitch-in-Charge. Rachel knew that as much as Quinn seemed to have changed, she had seen her old self come back before, when she was punching Karofsky and she was certain that the fact that Quinn had been avoiding Rachel like the plague since the incident in the bathroom, she was sure that something had snapped, and she had gone straight back to the way she used to be.

Not to mention, she definitely had the motive to do it. She had lost so much when she was kicked off the Cheerios. She had gone from having everything - power, influence, henchmen, boys fawning all over her, a home - and now she had nothing. Plus, she was bound to be acting out after what had transpired between the two of them. Rachel knew Quinn must be frightened. Hell, she had parents that were accepting and _she _was frightened. She couldn't even begin to imagine what Quinn was thinking. Rachel wished she hadn't run away from Quinn that day, and that she had stayed and tried to talk about it, but what's done was done. Quinn was clearly acting out, and trying to hurt Rachel - by rating her a minus five - and putting herself at the top with plus forty-five. Quinn could put herself back on top and knock Rachel down a peg or two at the same time. It _had_ to have been her.

As soon as Rachel had determined who it had been, she had straight away begun to formulate her plan on how to get back at Quinn, and hopefully gain back the (little she had) credibility she lost. And perhaps, she could get rid of Jesse at the same time. So maybe it was more like _three_ birds with one stone, but whatever. It would get the job done. She didn't want to leave Jesse, because then Quinn might think that she had left him for _her_, and however true that might be, she did _not_ want the blonde to know that. So, she had to do something that would make Jesse so angry he'd break up with her.

David Geddes 'Run Joey Run' seemed like the perfect way to do this. If she could make a music video for the appalling song with the bad reputation (ooh, was it four birds with one stone, if she was completing her glee assignment too?), and she sung it with Jesse, Finn _and _Noah all being her co-stars as Joey... She could make it look as though there were people fighting over her. That would rank her higher on the Glist, right? And, she could hopefully annoy Quinn with the video, too. She was mostly hoping it'd make Quinn jealous if she saw that Rachel had plenty of other suitors. Failsafe, just as she thought before.

Quinn was being interrogated. And she was pissed off. Her back hurt, Finn had been making funny faces at her all day, she thought that she might cry at any second, but she wasn't really sure why and now Mr. Schue was shouting at her, seemingly thinking he was in some sort of terrible crime drama. Law and Order sprung to mind. She really didn't have the energy for this. _Yes_, she _was_ the one who made the Glist, but she wasn't about to go and admit it. She had regretted it almost the second it had been put up. She had never expected it to get so out of hand, and now she knew that whoever had done it would be suspended, or worse: Expelled. She didn't think she could handle any more drama like that, and without the Cheerios and her parents' money, she was worried that community college might be the only thing she had as an option. She needed a scholarship, but that wouldn't happen if she had anything more added to her permanent record.

Mr. Schue was still going on and on, and Quinn zoned out of the conversation, playing absently with her hair. Her mind went back to the day in the bathroom. How soft Rachel's lips were, the feel of her tiny hands on her waist. The smell of her, and the quiet whimper she had given upon Quinn's forcefulness.

"Quinn!" Mr Schue exclaimed. She shook her head and looked up at him, quickly remembering where she was and what was going on and thinking how gross it was that she had just been thinking about _Berry_ in that way. After all, she had _man parts_, and she looked like she belonged on the set of Lord of the Rings as an extra in The Shire and before she knew it, she was blurting the first thing that came to mind.

"Rachel did it. Think about it. _I_ stole the guy she's in love with, _then_ I stole the guy she dated to get _over_ the guy she's in love with, and I'm kind of a bitch to her," She affirmed her words with a stern notion of her hand. She frowned. She really was a bitch to Rachel.

"It just doesn't seem like Rachel." Schue said with a shake of the head. Quinn was flailing now. Of course it wouldn't be Rachel, Rachel would never think of something like that. And yes she _was_ selfish and overbearing and obnoxious and many other unattractive things, but she was never spiteful. She was making herself look _more_ guilty by accusing someone so blatantly innocent.

_Think, Fabray, think!_ Her mind screamed desperately.

"She's gone behind your back before," Quinn said quickly, relief coursing through her as she thought of a reason to back up her accusation. The 'Push It' fiasco had sprung to mind. "A-and I mean who's to say there's only _one_ culprit?" Okay, even she knew that was stupid, but she had to try her best to cover her back.

She was really pissed off now. Mr. Schue was pacing up and down and she really just wanted to slap him to get him to stand still. Why wouldn't he just accept that no one was going to come forward, even if he _did_ continue this ridiculous one man good-cop-bad-cop thing. He sighed and Quinn put her head in her hands.

"Can I go now? I think I can feel some more morning sickness coming on," It was a cheap trick, but she hoped it'd work.

"It's after school, Quinn. You can't have morning sickness when it's not the morning."

"Mr. Schuester, do you really think that telling me how I'm feeling when you have _no clue_ what I have to deal with day in day out is a good idea? Yes, it's _called_ morning sickness, but it can come on at _any time_, and unless you want to deal with a very moody pregnant girl who doesn't have her anger under her own control, and you enjoy cleaning vomit off your desk, _I suggest you just let me go. Now_." Quinn said, through gritted teeth, standing and approaching the slowly paling Spanish teacher. Mr. Schuester sat down heavily, staring fearfully up at Quinn and held his hands up in surrender.

"You're quite right, that was very foolish of me and I hope you understand I meant no offense and-" Quinn retched a little, bracing herself against his desk.

"Go! You go right ahead and leave!" He shouted. She smirked as she turned away and walked from the room, head held high. He was far too easy to play. She hummed the tune to 'Physical' as she walked.

Rachel fidgeted in her chair in the choir room. She was fidgeting because she was eager for her video to be shown, and because Jesse was sitting next to her, and he had his arm on the back of her chair and he kept on playing with her hair if she leant back on it and it was _really irritating_. Ordinarily she would be listening to Mr. Schuester's every word, ready to jump in and correct him if she felt he was doing something wrong – which was most of the time – but today she was just anxious to get her video shown to the rest of the club and Jesse was doing _that thing_ with her hair _again_. She swallowed the urge to slap his hands away and tried to listen to what her teacher was saying.

"Another week has almost passed, and if another Glist goes up again today this... issue is out of my hands and it becomes Principal Figgins' jurisdiction." He looked around the glee club, his eyes clearly still trying to find the culprit. He looked pointedly at Rachel, who just fidgeted some more.

"Seriously, Mr. Schue, whoever made that list is not gonna come forward. We may as well just bend over and take what's coming," Rachel nodded in agreement with Finn when Mr. Schuester once again wound up looking at her. There was a long pause and Mr. Schue deflated.

"Fine. Okay well uh... let's get to it. Rachel? How about you show us your 'bad reputation' project?"

Rachel leapt from her seat, grinning excitedly as she took her place in front of the class.

"I'd like to say a few words first, though I understand a motion picture should stand on its own, I do realise that some of you are not very well versed in the complex vocabulary of the filmic arts. I expect that this video will go over the heads of our _less cultured_ teammates," Brittany stared vacantly back at all the faces that had turned her way at this remark, "So, I hope you enjoy my bad reputation." She took a deep breath and took her seat again.

Quinn was rolling her eyes. It seemed as though it was something she couldn't control, and Berry's rambling had set her eyes into overdrive. The countdown on the screen began and then Santana and Brittany were there in angel wings. Quinn was mildly shocked. She had no idea how Rachel had managed to enlist those two. Rachel did, however, and was cringing whilst remembering the constant harassment the feisty Latina had sent her way. She was only doing it because Brittany wanted to, as otherwise she wouldn't go anywhere near her as she was a horrible troll who had no friends because even all of the other trolls (who had horrible personalities) couldn't stand to be around her because they hated her _even more_ horrible personality. Oh and also, she knew she'd look really hot if she dressed like an angel, and she'd only do it if she could keep the costumes for some 'role play'. Rachel didn't even ask. She did not want to know. Judging by the dopey smile on Brittany's face, she really _did_ already know what was going on.

Rachel entered the scene, and she congratulated herself on the tragically dramatic expression on her own face as she sang. Most of the rest of the glee club were joining Quinn in rolling their eyes now.

Puck began to sing, stretched out on the bed and looking up at the camera. He was wearing a tight, white tank top and his arms were behind his head, showing off his 'guns' and looking like a badass. At least, that's what he was thinking. Quinn's head whipped round to look at him questioningly. She was unaware Puck was at all involved with Rachel anymore, and she tried to ignore the sting of jealousy she felt. She was quite sure that it was because she was jealous that Rachel had got Puck alone, when she never seemed to be able to do these days (he was always too busy playing Super Mario or some other sort of stupid game), and she was most definitely _not_ hurt that Rachel had chosen _him_ to sing and not her (no matter how much she would not fit the role of Joey, being a girl and everything). Jesse was also looking confused. Rachel was singing with Puck, and not him? Then Finn was also frowning and looking confused, although that wasn't much of a change from his usual expression. Rachel was singing with Puck and not him?

Then Jesse appeared on the screen, taking over from Puck. The three boys were growing increasingly angrier. As was a certain pregnant blonde girl. They all simultaneously clenched their fists as they watched. Jesse was replaced by Finn and Rachel/Julie/musical prostitute was shot by her father. Four people all simultaneously clenched their jaws as well as fists when they thought that right now they would really like to be in his place, shooting her.

Rachel was oblivious to the silent drama playing out around her. She was too enthralled by her own fantastic performance. Finn looked over to Puck who was shaking his head. Each of the boys were taking turns to sing the outro of the song in the video now, and at _last_ Rachel was winking at the screen and the word 'FIN' appeared. A loud rush of air escaped the lungs of everyone in the room. Rachel applauded herself and stood again. Quinn joined in clapping, but only because she had to, and she hoped the smile she plastered on her face was sarcastic enough for Rachel to notice.

"Well, why don't we all just take a moment to absorb what we just watched-" Rachel was cut off by Finn.

"This is _garbage_!"  
"Finn!" Mr. Schue said warningly.

"No! He's right," Puck joined in, "first of all I need to trust my instincts more because when we were shooting that, I had a feeling that it was _not_ going to be good-"

"Why didn't you tell me that they were in this too?" Jesse was joining the 'flame Rachel Berry' party it seemed. Well, at least this is one reaction she had wanted. "I thought that you and I were going out! Being triple cast with two other guys to play opposite your girlfriend? It's mortifying." Time to put her acting skills to use.

"I-it was an _artistic_ _statement_," She said desperately, gesturing at the blank screen behind her.

"No it wasn't, it was you trying to make it look like you had a bunch of guys fighting over you so you could stop looking like an outcast and like some sort of... hot... slutty... girl singer." Finn stood, enraged. He moved forward to Rachel, who glanced at Jesse. Good, he wasn't coming to defend her. Maybe he'd break up with her now.

"How could you do this to me? To _all_ us guys? Is your stupid reputation worth more to you than your relationships?" Finn stormed from the room. Jesse, never one to miss an opportunity to act the drama queen also flounced from the room.

"Jesse, wait!" Rachel said, without much conviction. Puck stayed, but mostly because he couldn't be bothered to get up. He didn't need to throw a tantrum like a little girl to get his point across, anyway. Rachel knew he was pissed.

Quinn had cornered Rachel in the bathroom again.

"You snitched on me!" She said incredulously. Rachel blinked. She was in no mood for Quinn's hormonal tantrums. As much as she liked to act, she didn't like to pretend she was losing something, when actually she was happy about it, and now she was sort of upset because she _was_ now genuinely unhappy _because_ she'd had to act like she was upset when all she wanted to do was celebrate. Her brain hurt. But at least it seemed as though Jesse had gone.

"Excuse me?" Rachel asked tiredly.

"_You_ told Mr. Schue _I_ made the Glist! I _know_ you knew."

"Quinn, whilst I will freely admit to knowing you are the culprit of such a heinous and childish cry for attention, I did no such thing."

"Then how did he know?"

"Perhaps pretending he was in _Law and Order_ actually helped him figure it out."

Quinn thought back to what had transpired between herself and her teacher. Mr. Schuester probably _had_ worked it out on his own, judging by how understanding he had been, defending her from Figgins and explaining that he knew how it felt to be like her. To lose a good reputation before you knew what had hit you. But she was also fairly sure Rachel had something to do with it. Or maybe it was because she hadn't been able to get Rachel off her mind for the last few days, and actually the 'Run Joey Run' fiasco had made things so much worse.

She had spent most of her time trying to force images of Rachel kissing Puck and Rachel kissing Finn and Rachel kissing Jesse out of her mind. Now she knew she was in trouble, but no matter what she felt for her unlikely new crush, she would _not_ act on it. But maybe... _maybe_ she could try and be friends again. That was in fact why Quinn had found Rachel in the bathroom in the first place. So that she could apologise, ask to pretend what happened had never happened and then go back to how they had been a few weeks ago. Instead, she found her brain was not in control of her mouth and she was shouting at Rachel _again_. She needed to end this.

"How _did_ you know?" Quinn asked softly.

"It wasn't hard to deduce it was you. I just had to rule out the most likely, and there you were. Not to mention you had the motive. You've been avoiding me."

"I'm sorry, I didn't really... I don't... know what to say,"

"After what happened, you mean?" Rachel asked. As terrified as she was of this inevitable conversation, she would not show fear, and she would not run. Not this time.

"Yes, after what... _happened_. Look, Rach, can we just forget it ever happened? I just want to be friends again. I wasn't thinking when I um... when I, _you know_..." Quinn trailed off, her fingers twisting together nervously in front of her. Rachel stepped closer, forcing Quinn to meet her eyes.

"When you kissed me?"

"Yeah, that. I think-"

"No."

"No?" Quinn squeaked. Why was she finding this so hard to deal with? Rachel was smaller than her, for God's sake. How could someone so tiny be so scary?

"No, I will not just pretend this never happened. You kissed me, and I _know_ it meant something."

"What? No! I was just all... hormonal, and Santana said all this stuff, that you were _gay_ for me and then Brittany said that _I_ was gay for _you_ and that I should just kiss you, and I wasn't thinking and I just wanted to know if-if you really _did_ feel that way. I-I mean I wouldn't mind if you did, but you have to understand, Rach. I'm not gay." Quinn sputtered.

"You're not?" Rachel asked in a disbelieving tone. Quinn looked affronted.

"No, of course I'm not! I'm pregnant, hello?"

"Give me your notebook."

"Pardon?"  
"Give me your notebook. The one you use in glee," Rachel held out her hand, eyebrows raised in impatience.

"I don't see why, but whatever," Quinn fumbled in her bag and handed it over. Rachel began to flip through. She stopped on the page where Quinn had drawn that picture of her back in their Madonna phase before their friendship had gone. Quinn's cheeks turned a funny shade of red.

"Oh," She said sheepishly, "you saw that." Rachel pursed her lips.

"Yes. But can you explain these?" She gestured to the hearts all around the picture. Funny, Quinn hadn't realised she'd done that. She went redder. Rachel passed the notebook back, flipping it shut. Then she walked to the final stall and pushed the door open.

"Come here,"

"What-"

"Just come here. Explain that." Rachel was pointing, and before Quinn could see what she was being shown she knew what it was. She reached Rachel and – if possible – went even redder than she was before. It was the stall she had spent one of her study periods in early in the year, before the babygate, where she had graffiti'd the entire wall with pictures of Rachel in... _compromising_ positions. Above it were the words 'Tranny Porn', and 'Rachel Berry' with an arrow pointing to the drawings in Quinn's meticulously neat handwriting.

"Do I really have to explain what it is?" Quinn asked. She was embarrassed that she could have ever acted so childishly. "I'm so sorry I ever did all those things to you. I'm sorry I gave you a minus 5 on the glist, even if the score is probably very fair. I do live with Puck, I know everything that happened, or rather _didn't_. But I'm sorry I even made the stupid thing. Really."

"That's not what I mean. I want you to explain to me why you are drawing hearts around my picture, thinking of me in sexual situations and going out of your way to be close to me, disguising it as though you don't like me and want to bully me." Quinn couldn't look at Rachel. She was right. She was _so_ right, and she had been so deeply in denial, she seemed to be the last one to know about her own feelings. It was as clear as day now. Her lip quivered. She couldn't be. She _wouldn't_ be.

"You could have just ignored me. You would have done if you didn't care," Rachel was whispering now, and Quinn realised she was being backed into the stall by the petite brunette.

"You never really loved Finn. You only slept with Puck because Finn couldn't do it due to his problem with the mailman, and to convince yourself you _did_ like men. That you weren't gay. But you wanted me. Even then, didn't you?" Quinn shook her head. _Don't cry, she'll know you're lying!_

"You don't have to lie to me, Quinn. I don't mind. I have two gay dads, remember. And a strong connection to the ACLU. I-" She paused, breath catching in her throat, "I like you, too."

"Gross," Quinn said, but she wasn't fooling anyone. Rachel inched closer, forcing Quinn to back into the wall.

"Just tell me," Rachel said authoritatively, but her eyes were shining with hope, and concern. She didn't want to be shot down. She didn't think she could take it.

"I can't,"

"I know it's hard. This is frustrating, Quinn. I feel like I'm suspended in gaffa." Rachel backed off a little, looking down at her feet. This wasn't going to work.

"Are your feet suddenly feet of mud?" Quinn asked suddenly. Rachel met Quinn's eyes quickly, a small smile appearing.

"It all goes slow-mo," Rachel responded, and Quinn smiled sadly.

"I don't know why I'm crying," She whispered, and a tear finally did fall. Rachel's heart felt like it was in her mouth, and it was beating stupidly fast.

"_Am_ I suspended in gaffa?"

"Not 'til I'm ready for you." Rachel sighed. This was painfully cliché, but it was actually working. They were sorting out their issues through song. She knew musical worked this way, but this was something else.

"Can I have it all now?" She asked carefully. Quinn didn't reply. She held her breath. Rachel closed the difference between them and stood on tip-toes. She hovered there from a second, but Quinn wasn't stopping her. Then the distance between their lips was closed, too.

Rachel's brow furrowed and she breathed in sharply through her nose. She could feel Quinn's tears on her face, but Quinn was kissing her back, and neither of them were running. They were finally on the path to sorting things out.

Quinn couldn't quite believe what had just occurred, but actually it was good. It was _really_ good. And incredibly cheesy, but possibly quite sweet at the same time. She wasn't sure how she'd never realised her feelings for Rachel before, but she was glad she recognised them now. Nothing could be better than this. Rachel pulled away and Quinn glowered at her. Rachel smiled shyly – Rachel Berry, shy? – and pressed her lips to Quinn's once more.

"Like this?" Quinn asked breathlessly. Rachel nodded, realising what Quinn was referencing. She remembered her words from their previous kiss in the bathroom, before she had high-tailed it as quickly as she could from the room. She nodded happily.

"Yes, like this. No running this time."

"I can't believe that just happened through a Kate Bush song."

"I can't believe you know Kate Bush."

"You know me... I like old music."

"Dork."  
"So're you! You're the one that started it."

"Who would've thought it? We've been united by Bush." Quinn swatted Rachel's arm as she giggled. Quinn lazily kissed Rachel again, and growled a little when Rachel pulled away, but grew concerned when she saw the laughter leave Rachel's eyes.

"What?"  
"We need to talk about this. About... us. Whatever we are." Quinn's face became equally serious at Rachel's words.

"Yeah... Just... not now?"

"Okay." Rachel's hands toyed with the collar of Quinn's cardigan. "Okay." She said again, more clearly. "We'll talk later."


	10. Chapter 10 Think

_A/N: I am so sorry this took so long. I know I say it every time, but this really was the chapter that didn't want to be written. Because I'm trying to write this entirely accurately to the show, putting a Faberry twist on this and keeping it canon and making it all link together is pretty damn hard. So it took me two weeks to come up with this, and then I had to conquer some unholy writer's block. But I finally got it done! I have also been really really busy, so on my free nights I've been too tired to write and yadda yadda excuses excuses... Either way, I'm sorry, but it's here at least! Definitely want feedback on this. I'm quite proud of the way I've managed to link things together. How Rachel _really_ got sick. This is obviously the first part of this little 'arc' as it were, but it would have gone on for ever if I kept it in one chapter, and I wouldn't have been able to update it tonight ;D_

_I have Terry Pratchett to thank for my inspiration also :P I've gone through like... five of his Discworld novels in a month, and I think his writing style is rubbing off on me. At least, his complete joy in words certainly is. His attention to grammar and format just make such fantastic writing that I was like 'omg I have to keep going' with mine. So yeah, big thanks to him xD_

_I have done NO editing on this at all, so I'm very sorry if this is riddled with typos, more so than usual. I am not bad at spelling/grammar, just when I don't proof it, I don't realise that my brain writes faster than my hands can! And lastly, writing American is difficult. I have to keep mentally checking what I'm thinking, in case I end up writing 'pavement' instead of 'sidewalk' and all this. Sigh, sorry if any English things got into this and confuse you. Blame my country :(  
_

**Chapter 10 - Think**

Quinn offered Rachel a tight-lipped smile as she passed her in the hallway. Rachel beamed jovially back at her, practically skipping away in the opposite direction. As soon as Quinn was sure Rachel was out of sight, she turned to double check and finally let out the sneeze that she had been holding back.

Several students turned to stare. It had been a pretty explosive sneeze, to be fair, and Quinn was now grinning happily. She felt better for letting it out. There was nothing worse, she decided, than trying to hold back the tickle in your nose and throat that was the tell-tale sign of a hideous expulsion of air and mucus and diseases and God knows what else through what was scientifically known as a 'sternutation'. She was currently wishing she wasn't such a good student, as actually sneezing was really gross, even if it did feel really good to finally let it out, and she didn't want to know all these stupid medical terms. It wasn't like she was ever going to be a doctor.

Her grin was quickly wiped from her face, however, as another tickle in her throat rose, but this time not to sneeze. No, this time it was to cough. Repeatedly, and seemingly endlessly. She leant against the lockers, her hand covering her mouth and gave in. It would end eventually, right? You couldn't cough yourself to death, could you? She supposed that if you had Tuberculosis you could. A cold sweat broke out. Did she have Tuberculosis? Her hand went from her mouth to her bump. Her _poor baby_.

Then she realised she was becoming more of a drama queen than Rachel. Maybe even more so than both Rachel and Jesse _combined_. Tuberculosis... Of course not. It was just a cold. And she was hiding from Rachel so that the _true_ drama queen wouldn't find out and overreact, just like she had just been doing. She also realised that since the sudden TB scare her coughing fit had subsided and instead she was stood in the corridor on her own staring at a wall and looking like a complete freak. If she were the old Quinn Fabray, seeing herself standing there like a lunatic, she would have ordered a slushie facial for herself. Okay, now even her mental ramblings were confusing her. Hiding from Rachel was stressing her out so much that she was losing her grip on reality. Or perhaps it wasn't just _hiding_ from Rachel, but Rachel was making her lose her grip on reality in general. Because, you know, she could drive _anyone_ crazy with her constant babbling and her _incessant_ pep-in-her-step. Or perhaps it was really because Quinn seemed to be falling for the brunette. Hard. But she hadn't quite grasped that concept yet.

Either way, Quinn had a cold, and she could not let Rachel know, because Rachel would force her to see all kinds of doctors, and ban her from glee, and most likely school all together. And actually, Quinn was enjoying school at the moment. Well, as much as you _can_ enjoy school when you find yourself waddling down a corridor like a hippopotamus whilst everyone who would have once parted like the Red Sea for you, now merely glanced your way with a look of mild disinterest. Much like one would pass a discarded flyer lying on the sidewalk, stopping to glance at it, just in case it was anything worth reading, but then seeing it was actually for the bake sale at the local retirement home. Dull, and uninteresting. But, she had real friends for the first time, and glee was actually fun. It may have started out as a project to destroy, but now it was her home. And she'd be damned if she let Rachel take that from her for a measly cold.

But hiding from Rachel was far easier said than done. She would always manage to track Quinn down wherever she was, and Quinn would try to hide her sniffles, and stifle her coughs and blame her sneezing on the sudden changes in the light (which was a genuine reason for sneezing, after all).

The worst thing was when they were alone together. Quinn knew Rachel would throw all kinds of tantrums if she stopped seeing her altogether after school, and besides, resisting Rachel was entirely too hard anyway. The hardest thing, though? Trying not to _kiss_ her. The blonde was in two minds about this. Of course, she _wanted_ to kiss Rachel, because kissing Rachel was fantastic, and lovely and any other adjectives to be used in the place of 'wonderful', but she also _didn't_ want to kiss her, because then she could pass the bug onto Rachel, and she didn't want to be responsible for _that_. For one, she would feel terrible for causing her... _whatever_ Rachel was to her any suffering, but also because Rachel would undoubtedly be utterly insufferable when ill. She was hard enough to deal with on the best of days. But she was _really_ hard to resist when she pouted the way she did, so of course they would end up kissing anyway.

It was only a matter of time, really, until Rachel caught it too.

* * *

Rachel was sitting in her English class, trying desperately to pay attention to her teacher talking about 'The Catcher in the Rye'. Ordinarily, she would be diligently taking notes, but today she couldn't get her mind to stay on one thing. Every time she tried to focus solely on the words her teacher was saying, she'd suddenly come around several minutes later to find she had in fact just been staring vacantly out of the window, and the more she tried to concentrate, the less she seemed able. She sighed in frustration, and wondered how Quinn was doing. She turned around in her seat to see Quinn staring guiltily at her, with a slightly red nose. Quinn's hands had quickly retreated under the desk. Rachel frowned, wondering what Quinn was hiding, but couldn't ask as the blonde was seated too far away and she couldn't very well talk over the teacher. That wouldn't do at all. She continued to fix Quinn with a withering glare, but Quinn just grinned back sheepishly. Rachel turned back to the front of the class, and stifled a yawn. Why was she so tired suddenly? She shook her head and blinked rapidly, trying to wake herself up. She forced herself to concentrate.

It was working, for a while. Rachel was listening now, and seemed able to focus enough to start taking notes again, and when the teacher was asking questions her hand was stretched as high in the air as it could go (not very high at all). It was the third time that she raised her hand that something dreadful happened.

There was a _tickle_ in her throat. Her hand whipped through the air and slapped on the desk loudly. She swallowed, but the tickle was still there. The urge to _cough,_ of all things, was rapidly rising. A cold sweat broke out on the palms of her hands. _Oh no, _she thought desperately. _Oh no_. Her hand flew to her throat, and she gritted her teeth, determined not to give in. To actually cough was to show the first sign of weakness, and then it would really happen. She would get sick. And she did not want that.

* * *

Rachel Berry was on a mission (big surprise). After the terrible incident in English with the tickle in the back of her throat she had been applying a rigorous routine of multi-vitamin pills and several mugs of herbal tea a day. She had also been going to bed earlier, to try and counter the tiredness – plus, she figured that maybe going to bed at ten thirty every night really was very late anyway, and it was good she was changing it to nine thirty instead – and her morning workout on the elliptical had been extended by an extra two-point-five minutes as it would be no good to let any form of illness take away her absolutely necessary exercise. This did mean, of course, that her very carefully sculpted usual routine had been turned entirely upside down, causing a lot of stress and rearrangement, but she was willing to sacrifice her time if it meant she would fend off the cough.

Hey daily MySpace videos were lacking a little, Rachel felt. But it was necessary. This was her least favourite of the sacrifices, because who knows when a talent scout would happen upon her MySpace page and see her for the stunning, young ingénue that she was, watch her videos and go "Oh, well, they're going downhill. I won't bother with _her_ then". Rachel had actually suffered several nightmares along those lines, which seemed to only be making her _more_ tired, and her singing _more_ strained. She found herself afraid to really try anything big, in case she damaged her voice, but Rachel Berry had a very big voice despite the very small body and it did not like to be neglected. It was also doing nothing for her ego.

It was time to do some detective work. She needed to find out _why_ she was feeling like this. She figured that she was beginning to get sick because her body was too tired to fight off an illness, so she had to investigate why she was so tired. Nothing had changed recently that she could think of... So she looked deeper.

Then it struck her. She was running through her scaled in glee club, when she noticed that she seemed louder than usual. But she wasn't _singing_ louder, and she was fairly sure – considering she had her ears examined by a doctor routinely, to make sure she wasn't going deaf and bring an early end to her career before it could even take off – that it wasn't her ears playing up. So that meant that people weren't singing. They weren't _bothering_ to even _sing_, in _glee club._ _That was the whole point of it_! Rachel was mortified. As great as she was –and she _was_ great, she knew that – she couldn't take the strain on top of all of other very busy activities. There was only so much one diva could do. Action definitely needed to be taken.

* * *

Zizes thundered down the stairs towards Rachel and fixed her with a calculatingly bored look. Rachel gulped. She was probably only a quarter of the size of the other girl, and if she was to fall, she would definitely be crushed. _Don't show fear. Never show any fear_, Rachel prompted herself.

"I need you to bug the choir room," Rachel said matter-of-factly. Never mind formalities such as 'hello' or 'how are you?' This was serious, and it was time to cut to the chase. Not that Lauren could chase all that well, come to think of it.

"_Bug_ the choir room?" Lauren looked offended. She stated that that was, in fact, the case. "I'm almost offended by the simplicity of the request," Rachel was annoyed now. Hand on her hip, she glared up at the only girl in school who seemed to have a fashion sense worse than herself. How come _she_ never got slushied?

"Just tell me you can do it, Zizes," She looked conspiratorially around her, "the microphones would have to be _hidden_." A student was ascending the stairs. Rachel didn't think anything of it, but apparently when being asked about secret spying missions, Lauren was easily spooked.

"Who's this guy? Who's this guy?" 'This guy' looked utterly baffled, and passed at a slightly faster rate than he had begun with. Rachel watched him, equally confused. As soon as he had passed, although he was _clearly_ not out of ear-shot yet, Lauren continued.

"It'll cost you two bucks, a mallow marsh for me and Snickers bars for my workers. Take it or leave it, Berry." Rachel pretended to consider. It wasn't a hard choice. She nodded firmly.

* * *

Overall, 'Operation Barbra Streisand' has been a success. Apart from Lauren really not understanding the art of 'subtlety' (she had blatantly stood at the choir room door patiently chomping her way through her workers' Snickers bars as glee club ran through the scaled and the craftily planted microphone recorded the whole session from the mobile suspended on the ceiling), anyway. And Rachel had thought the name of the operation was bad enough –just because she liked (okay _adored_) Streisand didn't mean she was incapable of being _original_, but Lauren had insisted. Rachel was now set with her studio quality headphones clutched to her head as she listened to her running through her scales. They had recorded all of that week's rehearsals, and it was a tedious job to do when she had far better things to be doing with her evenings than listening to herself sing – as much as she liked the sound of her own voice – but really, it did sound as though it was mainly her.

She thanked God that she was pitch perfect with her hearing, and could thusly pick out each individual members' voice, or rather in this case, pick out whose voice _wasn't_ there. She pulled her notepad towards her, her favourite notepad with 'From the desk of Rachel Berry' complete with a little star, because the star with her signature was a metaphor for the future star she was to become, and metaphors were important. The list read as follows:

From the desk of

_Rachel Berry_

1) Finn Hudson

2) Quinn Fabray

3) Santana Lopez

4) Noah Puckerman

5) Brittany

Ever the perfectionist, Rachel was most upset when she realised that she didn't know what Brittany's last name was, and when she asked around she found out that _nobody _knew. The list looked _wrong_ when it had everyone's first and last names apart from her.

What upset her more, however, was the fact that her current romantic interest was on the list, too. Not Finn Hudson this time, thankfully, but of course; Quinn. She couldn't understand why Quinn had stopped singing. She was always telling Rachel how much she _loved_ glee, that it was the one place she could feel safe and at home, but evidently this wasn't true if she wasn't even bothering to participate anymore. Rachel narrowed her eyes at the list. She would have to have a discussion with Quinn about this pretty sharp.

* * *

Rachel slammed several pots of pills down on the piano in front of Mr. Schuester.

"Um... W-what are these?"

"My vitamin supplements. I'm taking them three times a day." She continued to very seriously set them out on the piano. Mr. Schuester looked frightened, but that wasn't a surprise as that was the expression he usually wore in the company of Rachel Berry.

"I'm exhausted," Rachel continued, seemingly oblivious to the teacher's feelings, "I even felt a _tickle_ in the back of my throat and I _never_ get sick."

"I-I just don't understand why you're so tired all of a sudden..."

"Because every song I sing in here is a solo! As you know I have perfect pitch which means I have a sensitive ear. _None_ of them were singing. So I had a little talk with Lauren Zizes, President of the AV Club," at the mention of the name, Mr. Schuester physically recoiled. He had met with the girl several times, and was possibly even scarier than Rachel herself. The two of them together as a team would mean hell on earth.

"Here are the glee club members who are _not_ pulling their weight," She brandished a piece of paper and pushed it towards the stricken man. His eyes narrowed as he read the list.

"This is half the glee club," Rachel looked up at the man, imploring him to do _something_ right for once.


	11. Chapter 11 The Climb

_A/N: Man, I _**suck**_. I'm truly so sorry that I've not updated in so long. I am a terrible person. I have excuses, a lot of them, all very vaild, but it totally doesn't make up for the fact that it's been like... two months. And this chapter is bad, too. It's so hard to get back into writing when you've left a story so long. I'm hoping that now I'll be able to get it back up to how it was quality wise, and my update times should hopefully be a little speedier. I suddenly find myself with a lot of spare time, so when I'm not doing music-y things I will do my best to write._

_A quick thanks to everyone who has favourited/alerted either me or this story. I really appreciate it, especially as the date I last published was like, so last year ;D R&R, as it will motivate me, and let me know where to go with this. You're all great! Cheers~  
_

**Chapter 11 – The Climb**

"Girl, you got more curves than a Nissan ad," Said Puck, as he craned round in his chair to leer at Mercedes. Quinn shuddered. She slept with _that_. Dear God, _why_? Then she remembered the wine coolers that had clouded her judgement, and Puck soothing her self-esteem issues with gentle insurances that she _wasn't_ fat. At least Mercedes seemed equally unimpressed with his advances. But then again, who would be with a terrible pick up line like that? She turned her attention to the front of the room again. Rachel was seemingly ready to do her solo. She was blathering on about some truly awful Miley Cyrus song being incredibly relevant because it was about overcoming obstacles (the obstacles being the glee club in this case). Quinn didn't miss the icy glare sent her way during the speech. Rachel had been annoyed with her since finding out that she wasn't singing anymore.

Quinn clearly hadn't gotten over her issue of not being able to tell the truth under pressure and had said that she wasn't singing because her 'baby hormones were making her moody'. It was true, to an extent. She _was_ moody, but that wasn't the real reason. The real reason was because her throat felt as though it was being scrubbed by sandpaper and she was terrified of opening her mouth in front of anyone for fear of infecting them. Neither Mr. Schuester or Rachel seemed to take the excuse very well, either.

Brad began to play the piano, (_Where did he come from anyway? _Quinn wondered) and a voice began to... screech. Quinn grimaced. It was horrendous. It sounded like someone was drowning a cat, but the cat was just giving in to fate and whinging about it rather than fighting.

Quinn was terrified. Why did Rachel's lips have to be so tempting? She had passed her illness on through sinful lusting! She was damned! She was damned from the beginning anyway though, she gathered, seeing as she was pregnant before marriage, not to mention that she was now kissing girls _and_ liking it. Quinn's cheeks were flaming red as Mr. Schuester softly informed Rachel that she had lost the one thing that kept her going. Her voice. Quinn guiltily looked everywhere but at Rachel and bolted from the choir room as soon as they were dismissed.

Rachel was following her though. Quinn sped up a little, but there's a limit to how fast you can travel as a seven month pregnant girl. It's slower than the speed of a non-pregnant Rachel Berry.

"Quinn!" Rachel croaked behind her. Pretending she didn't know she was being followed was now unfeasible. Quinn turned.

"Hello," She said nervously.

"Quinn, I need to go to the doctor. I'll never sing again! What will do if I can't sing?" Quinn shrugged.

"Stop talking?"

"Quinn! This isn't funny! My dream will be _ruined_. I'll end up a Lima Loser just like everyone else!"  
"I'm not laughing I'm jus- Oh no..."

"What?" Rachel asked, looking utterly perplexed, and mostly annoyed that Quinn wasn't taking her very dramatic problem seriously enough.

Then Quinn exploded.

Not literally, but the sneeze did sound like an explosion. There was a pregnant pause. Quite literally, this time. Understanding formed in Rachel's eyes as they narrowed at Quinn.

"You..." She said accusingly, pointing a menacing finger at Quinn. Quinn cowered.

"Me what?" She whimpered.

"This is _your_ fault! I made a _fool_ out of myself singing in front of the others like that! I promised myself I wouldn't be made a fool of again."  
"Rachel, your school bag has _wheels_. You're _good_ at making yourself look like an idio-" Again she was interrupted (although she was glad of it this time before she upset Rachel any more than she already had) by a well-timed coughing fit.

"No! You do _not_ get to add insult to injury! Quite possibly _permanent_ injury! If you had just been able to keep your grabby hands to yourself, I would never have gotten sick, and my sure to be _stellar_ career on Broadway would not be jeopardised! I am holding _you_ fully responsible if I don't ever sing again." Rachel ranted, her voice loud and grating as she struggled to get her words out. The blonde shrank away, shamefully.

"I do not have grabby hands." She said petulantly.

"Yes, you do. You can't keep your hands off me when we're alone."  
"I'm _pregnant_! I can't help my hormones! Stop looking at me like that, Rachel, I didn't _mean_ to make you sick. You should take it as a compliment that I can't control myself when I'm around you because you're so pretty and irresistible," Quinn clamped her mouth shut. Where had _that_ come from? Rachel was staring at her, all anger gone.

"Y-you think I'm pretty?" Quinn blushed under her gaze.

"Of course I do. Otherwise I wouldn't be trying to kiss you all the time..."

"That's very sweet. You're very pretty, too."

"Rachel, this is lame."

"I like lame."

"Can I kiss you now?" Quinn stepped forward, hands tugging at Rachel's cardigan. Rachel resisted.

"See? Grabby hands! And _no_! I don't want to kiss you when you're sick, _and_ I'm sick! What about the baby? I was going to ask you to take me to the doctor by the way, but then I uninvited you, because I was mad, but then you said I was pretty and I want you to take me now." Rachel finished babbling, still pushing a smiling Quinn away. The blonde was stronger than Rachel and pecked her on the lips.

"Okay, when?"  
"I have an appointment tomorrow after school, so we can just go straight from class-"

"I can't, I have to go see the baby doctor tomorrow..."  
"Oh, okay. Do you mind if I ask Finn to go? I don't want to go on my own." Quinn made a face, wrinkling her nose.

"Why him?"

"Jesse's out of town, so he can't take me, and obviously if you can't go..."

"Why would Jesse take you? I thought you had broken up." Rachel shifted uncomfortably as Quinn's HBIC face settled on her face, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised. Rachel gulped.

"Um... Well, we haven't spoken since 'Run Joey Run', so I don't _know_ if we're together or not."

"What do you mean you '_don't know_'?"

"W-we've just not spoken about it!"

"Well, I suggest you _do_, if you want to keep seeing _me_, never mind that curly haired freak." Quinn turned on her heel and marched away, seething with anger.

* * *

Rachel felt terrible. For several reason. Physically, she was feeling more ill than she could ever remember having felt before, although her doctor had kept on assuring her that she was making herself worse by worrying so much. Finn was also proving to have been a _very_ bad choice of person to take with her to the doctor's and she had found herself wishing for the blonde's company instead. Especially as Finn was so utterly useless at doing _anything_ right. He had been wholly unsupportive or sympathetic towards her in her condition, considering she was fearing she would never sing again, and he had clearly found it entertaining when the doctor told Rachel that she would 'probably never sing again' as a _joke_ (Rachel was still unsure as to how that was even a remotely funny thing to say to someone who had had their heart set on being on Broadway since... well, birth). Not to mention that when she had looked for someone to reassure her that she wasn't just a 'spoilt, annoying, only child', and Finn hadn't even been able to tell her _one_ measly thing about her that was 'awesome' as he put it. Plus, she was quite sure (her sixth sense was tingling) that Finn had been trying to peek at her changing through the curtains in the doctor's office. _And_ Quinn was mad at her. Well, so were Puck and Jesse, but she didn't really have the energy to care about them at that moment. She didn't like it when Quinn was mad at her. Which meant Jesse really had to go, once and for all.

* * *

Things seemed to be going from bad to worse. Puck had been glaring at Rachel for most of glee club, and Quinn had been doing the same. She was wasn't even sitting anywhere near Rachel, but Rachel could feel the anger radiating off Quinn as though it were something physical. Then Finn made it somehow even worse. He was good at doing that, Rachel noted. Not only had he been babbling about him being so much better for her than Jesse was, but then he stood up and serenaded Rachel with Rick Springfield's 'Jessie's Girl', which was truly mortifying. Finn was nice, and had good intentions and everything, but he was just... he was mostly just an idiot.

Quinn seemed to get angrier throughout the performance, and ended up with her fists clenched, nails digging painfully into her palms. She couldn't look at Finn. She knew if she did she might have to punch him. And whilst that would be really satisfying, it wasn't the most rational of things to do.

Then Puck took Finn's place and serenaded Mercedes with the song 'Lady is a Tramp'. It was Quinn's turn to be utterly mortified. She knew straight away that Puck was just looking to gain his popularity back. Since his Mohawk had gone, the nerds had seemed to think it was okay to go after him. Puck was going to hurt Mercedes, and she didn't even seem to know it. In fact, she seemed utterly charmed by it, as she danced and sang along. Quinn grimaced as she realised that _everyone_ in the room seemed to be enjoying it and were all singing along too. She gritted her teeth and clapped, and forced a bright smile on her face.

By the end of the performance, however, Quinn had changed her mind slightly. She wouldn't bother talking to Puck about this, he would just explain that he was a 'sex shark' and he had to keep moving, or something equally gross, and arguing with him made it very difficult to live with him, especially as Puck's mum always ended up getting involved and would remain moody with Quinn long after the argument had been forgotten about.

But what she _could_ do was talk to Mercedes. She was worried for the girl, and she had become (aside from Rachel) a friend over the last few weeks, and once again she was almost shocked to see how much she cared. After glee was over, Quinn headed to Mercedes' locker to wait.

When the girl rounded the corner in her Cheerios uniform, her huge smile faded when she set eyes on Quinn. Mercedes took a deep breath, calming herself and walked towards Quinn, preparing for her to revert to her old ways.

"Look, Quinn," At this, Quinn arched her eyebrow, mainly because she suddenly realised that Mercedes thought that she was mad at her for stealing her 'baby daddy' or something, but Mercedes seemed to take it the other way. Quinn knew she had to set the record straight before the tentative friendship they had formed was ruined.

"I say go for it," She said quickly, with a smile. Mercedes looked shocked. "Look, I screwed up by letting Puck get me pregnant, he's an idiot, and his mother won't let me eat bacon," Quinn frowned a little at this, realising she was rambling _a la_ Rachel Berry, "I'm stuck living with him right now, but at least if you guys are dating then I won't have to listen to his _insane_ theories on how Super Mario Brothers 'changed civilisation'," At this, Mercedes smirked, and Quinn was pleased. Until she remembered she really did have to warn the girl about 'Puckasaurus'. "But... you _do_ realise that he's using you and your popularity so he won't get tossed in the dumpster?"

"I _know_ he's using me," Mercedes said, with an eye roll, and Quinn's heart clenched painfully for the lonely girl stood before her, as she told Quinn that _no one_ had ever wanted her before, in any way, so that even in being used, she felt good. It was sad that so many kids felt this way, Quinn thought sombrely.

"I just don't want you to get hurt," Quinn answered truthfully. The girls parted ways shortly after, Quinn having momentarily forgotten she was angry with Rachel.


End file.
